Beauty Behind Barbed Wire (1952)

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EMBROIDERY AT HEART MOUNTAIN, WYOMING

Probably more people in proportion to the population did embroidery at
Heart Mountain than in any other of the ten centers. This piece hy
Mr. Nagahama, the pioneer teacher, records three symbols ok this camp:
Heart Mountain, barbed wire, and hie tar-paper-covered barracks.

BEAUTY

BEHIND BARBED WIRE

The Arts of the Japanese in Our
War Relocation Camps

BY

ALLEN H. EATON

Author of Immigrant Gifts to American Life, Handicrafts of the
Southern Highlands, Handicrafts of New England

ILLUSTRATED

FOREWORD BY

ELEANOR ROOSEVELT

HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

COPYRIGHT, 1952, BY ALLEN II. EATON. PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. ALL
RIGHTS IN THIS BOOK ARE RESERVED. NO PART OF THE BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED IN ANY
MANNER WHATSOEVER WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION EXCEPT IN CASE OF BRIEF QUOTATIONS
EMBODIED IN CRITICAL ARTICLES AND REVIEWS. FOR INFORMATION ADDRESS HARPER & BROTHERS

Library of Congress catalog card number: 51-11905

I DEDICATE THIS BOOK

in grateful memory to my grandfather on my mother’s
side, Honorable Jim Hcndershott, who drove an ox
team across the plains from Iowa to the Oregon Coun¬
try in 1852 and who, in the 1880’s on a date never
recorded, but vividly remembered, “uninvited,” and
in my small presence, met a posse of excited men in
a grist mill in Grande Ronde Valley and persuaded
them not to burn the houses and hang the Chinamen
of our village who, at the time “threatened the exist¬
ence of the United States with the Yellow Peril.”

Art when really understood is the province of every human being. It is simply a
question of doing things, anything well. It is not an outside extra thing. ... He
does not have to be a painter or a sculptor to be an artist. He can work in any
medium. He simply has to find the gain in the work itself, not outside it.

ROBERT HENRI

In Japan children are taught from infancy to use their imaginations, especially in

the perception of hidden beauty. The poorest, unable to buy any work of human

art, become independent of such extraneous aids by learning to recognize in the

most commonplace of objects—a waterworn stone, a shadow on a wall, a fallen

leaf—a beauty transcending the works of man.

' ANONYMOUS

To me the greatest thing is to live beauty in our daily life and to crowd every
moment of our life with things of beauty. ... As long as beauty abides only
with a few articles created by a few geniuses, the Kingdom of Beauty is nowhere
near realization.

YANAGI

To a remarkable degree, Japanese art enters the daily life of the people, whether
they are educated or ignorant, trained or not. It influences their homes and the
utensils of their domestic life.

ANESAKI

All through Japanese life runs a vein of what one might call a courtesy to nature;
as if it was felt that to pass by any manifestation of beauty in nature was like
neglecting a courtesy to a human being.

LAURENCE BINYON

The things which men have made ... are inevitably the best witness. They can-
not lie, and what they say is of supreme importance. For they speak of man’s
soul and they show who are his gods.

ERIC GILL

CONTENTS

List of 92 Illustrations

viii

Foreword by Eleanor Roosevelt

xi

Introduction

xiii

Pabt I

Prologue

3

Beauty Behind Barbed Wire—the Arts of the Japa-

nese in Our War Relocation Camps

10

Part II

A Look Back: A Look Forward

175

Annotated Selective Bibliography

197

Index

205

vii

ILLUSTRATIONS

IN COLOR

Embroidery, Heart Mountain Frontispiece

A Handmade Rose Facing page 174

Semiprecious Stones from Utah Mountains “ 180

A Nonbotanical Rosebush “ 194

Part I

BLACK AND WHITE

1 The Spring of 1942 on Our Pacific Coast 5

2 Evacuation 7

3 A Relocation Center; Granada (Amache, Colorado) 9

4 Artifacts from Three Centers 11

5 Wood Carving in Amache 13

6 More Wood Carving in Amache 15

7 Miniature Landscapes; Granada (Amache, Colorado) 17

8 Bon-Kei, Miniature Landscapes; Granada (Amache, Colo¬

rado) 19

9 Calligraphy, or Handwriting, Was Practiced in Every Center 21

10 Spring at Rohwer, Arkansas 23

11 A Barracks Garden at Tule Lake, California 25

12 Home Name Plates at Topaz, Utah 27

13 An American Sparrow Carved in Wood at Poston, Arizona 29

14 Homemade Wooden Cart in Gila River, Arizona 31

15 Kobu from Gila, Arizona 33

16 Arranging Sagebrush at Minidoka, Idaho 35

17 Comer of Living and Sleeping Room; Minidoka, Idaho 37

18 A Close-up of an Object from the Previous Page 39

19 A House Temple Made at Minidoka, Idaho 41

20 Embroidery—Chicken and Wheat 43

21 Artificial Flowers of Shells 45

22 Four Handicrafts from Four Centers 47

23 Writing Material with Inkstone from Native Slate 49

24 Block 29, Rohwer, Arkansas Camp 51

25 New Entrance for Barracks; Locust Hedge for Yards 53

viii

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

26 Converting Barracks into Homes at Amache, Colorado 55

27 Garden of Native Cactus; Gila River, Central Arizona 57

28 Flower Arrangement Class; Rohwer, Arkansas 59

29 Class Exhibition at Rohwer, Arkansas 61

30 A Resident Painter at Amache, Colorado 63

31 "Winter”; Painting by Estelle Ishigo at Heart Mountain,

Wyoming 65

32 Rugs for Barracks Apartment; Jerome, Arkansas 67

33 Work of a Modest Carver; Minidoka, Idaho 69

34 Embroidery of Many Colors and Many Stitches 71

35 Collection of Canes; Minidoka, Idaho 73

36 An Early Bit of Landscaping at Poston, Arizona 75

37 Wind and Sand Sculpture at Minidoka 77

38 Armor for Dramatics at Rohwer, Arkansas 79

39 "Show Business” Properties at Rohwer 81

40 Arrangement of Wild Juniper; Heart Mountain, Wyoming 83

41 A Violinist Tamed Wild Birds at Topaz, Utah 85

42 Japanese Folk Tales in Stones at Minidoka, Idaho 87

43 Bon-Kei and Growing Plant Arrangement; Amache, Colo¬

rado 89

44 Flying Bird Found in the Desert at Minidoka 91

45 Rock Garden at Minidoka, Idaho 93

46 Detail of Minidoka Rock Garden 95

47 Visitors at an Art Exhibition; Amache, Colorado 97

48 A Hobbyhorse for the Children at Rohwer 99

49 Pyrography from Heart Mountain; Fire Tools from Rohwer 101

50 Ceremonial Dolls for Girls’ Day, March 3; Rohwer, Arkansas 103

51 Furniture at Rohwer, Southeastern Arkansas 105

52 Kobu Vase with Restrained Decoration 107

53 Arrangement of Cattails 109

54 Panel for Poetry Prize; Tide Lake, California 111

55 Teaching Tea Ceremony (Cha-No-Yu) at Tule Lake, Cali¬

fornia 113

56 Nature and Art in Wood from Arkansas and Arizona 115

57 "Plum Blossoms and Pine”; Tule Lake, California 117

58 Embroidery from Manzanar, California 119

59 Making a Tsumami Picture at Rohwer, Arkansas 121

60 Bon Odori Dancers Gather for Buddhist Festival 123

61 Three Young Dancers; Amache, Colorado 125

62 Buddhist Temple at Rohwer, Arkansas 127

63 Artificial Flowers at Amache, Colorado 129

64 Wood Carving at Rohwer, Arkansas 131

65 Bobby Kaneko, Aged Four, All Dressed Up for a Parade 133

ix

qo oo go oo oooooooooo<i<i<i<i<i*s<i<i<i^a>g5a>c»

oo -4 oS oi ^cotoHO(DOoMO)Cn^coK)HO(OOo*aS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Playing the Japanese Game Go at Heart Mountain, Wyoming 135
Flower Arrangement Class in Tule Lake, California 137

Sign from Cedar Limb; Letter Boxes from Scrap Wood 139

A Member of the American Legion at Heart Mountain 141

A Community Laundry and Bathhouse 143

“Autumn Mood” Composition; Heart Mountain, Wyoming 145
Life as Seen by a Painter at Rohwer, Arkansas 147

Four Flower Arrangements; Rohwer, Arkansas 149

A Chrysanthemum Plant at Rohwer, Arkansas 151

Chrysanthemums and Poems at Camp Manzanar, California 153
Rohwer General Assembly Hall in Holiday Style 155

A Painting, “Moon Over Topaz” 157

A Colored Wood Carving; Below, a Wood Inlay 159

A Rohwer, Arkansas Fruit and Vegetable Arrangement 161

Wind and Sand Carved Crane, Minidoka, Idaho 163

Wood, Paper and Stone Given Traditional Treatment 165

Surprise Approach to Barracks; Gila, Arizona 167

Leaving Jerome, Arkansas, for Rohwer Center 169

Last Days of Jerome—Summer, 1944 171

Part II

Registering for Defense Employment at Amache, Colorado 179
A Serious Moment for a 21-Year-Old Japanese-American 183
Gold Star Mothers in Relocation Camps 187

Mr. and Mrs. Takahashi of Jerome, Arkansas 191

x

FOREWORD

I T seems to me a long while since we established in this country
the War Relocation Authority and turned over to that Authority,
in ten War Relocation Centers, the care and custody of our Japanese-
American population from the West Coast. This was done because
our military authorities had felt that this element of our population
might provide some individuals dangerous to our national security on
the West Coast. Feeling was running so high against the Japanese,
with whom we were at war, that some felt that a great many of those
within our borders would have to be placed where they were not in
physical danger.

This book will tell, in Part One, through the illustrations, captions,
and legends accompanying them, the story of the arts that were cre¬
ated and preserved in these camps. The text, written by Allen Eaton,
who has done so much to preserve the handicrafts and arts in this
country through his previous books, tells in his prologue how he came
to write this record. He covers the things that the residents of these
centers made, from the gardens—which I can testify were truly beau¬
tiful even in camps where the desert surrounded them—to many other
cultural activities. In spite of their difficult conditions of living, they
had poetry societies, dramatic and natural history clubs, and, true to
the Japanese tradition, classes in good manners and in the tea cere¬
mony.

The illustrations show us many of the things that they made in the
centers which added to the comfort of what at best was an uncom¬
fortable life. They also tell the story of how they preserved some of
the Japanese traditional customs.

The second part of the book seems to me an even more important
part for us, as Americans, because it reveals still further the character
of our Japanese-Americans who took the sudden evacuation with such
a remarkably fine spirit. It also shows how well the War Relocation
Authority did its work, one of the achievements of government admin¬
istration of which every American citizen can be proud. Finally it tells

xi

FOREWORD

the story of the remarkable co-operation between the Authority and
the residents in the settlements, and how this helped toward their future
reabsorption into American life.

This book should help us, not only to know our own Nisei better,
but to give an insight into the character of the Japanese people them¬
selves. I am so glad to have the opportunity to write these few words
about this book. I hope it will be widely read.

Eleanor Roosevelt

Hyde Park, New York

xii

INTRODUCTION

T HIS book seeks to make available, now for the first time, the story
of the arts of the Japanese in our War Relocation Camps; a story
without parallel in our country and one of the most remarkable chap¬
ters in the long history of the human arts.

Quite as remarkable as, and even more memorable to many than
the story of these arts, is the background out of which they came;
and so is included within the covers of Beauty Behind Barbed Wire ,
in Part II, the story of the evacuation by our government in the spring
of 1942, of 110,000 people of Japanese ancestry, including 70,000
American-born citizens, from their homes and working places in the
Pacific Coast States of California, Oregon and Washington and their
removal to detention camps inland to await resettlement.

What might be called a third reason for this work, though insep¬
arably linked to these first two, is to share with the reader a part of
the distinguished record of the War Relocation Authority, which had
charge of these detention camps; it is one of the finest achievements
in American war- and peacetime government administration. This civil
emergency organization inherited the most difficult and unwelcome
human problem within our nation connected with World War II—the
custody and relocation of these people of Japanese ancestry; but it
worked these problems out with the highest credit to all concerned,
and with measurements of success beyond reasonable expectations.

This work is presented in the hope that it will help bring about
better understanding, appreciation and love for a minority group in
our midst, our people of Japanese ancestry; and also in the hope that
many and more of us will turn our minds to ways of righting, in such
measure as we can, a great wrong which we, through our government
and some of our fellow citizens, have done these people.

In order that those who wish may have ready access to the literature
on Japanese-Americans from their first arrival in the United States and
through their experiences with evacuation and relocation, a Selective,

xiii

INTRODUCTION

Annotated Bibliography has been prepared and printed at the end
of Part II.

My one regret as I turn this book over to the bookmakers, is inability
to record separately my indebtedness to indispensable helpers all along
the line of preparation from early conferences with WRA staff members
in Washington, in the Relocation Camps in 1945, and through the
years since, with almost countless contacts.

Credit is given the photographers, whose work is first in importance,
by the method I like best, their names with their photographs; but the
photographic staff and the reports offices of WRA in Washington and
the field, and other members of the War Relocation Authority must
accept my blanket thanks.

I am hoping the many persons in many places, who have helped
from the beginning, in one way or another, will feel some satisfaction,
a kind of compensation, in the finished work; and that they, and others,
especially the residents of the camps, will write me of errors of com¬
mission and omission which they discover in the book.

I can express my gratitude to a few among the most recent co-
operators: first, to the Humanities Division of the Rockefeller Founda¬
tion for their grant in aid to my sponsors which made possible this
publication in 1951; and especially to Dr. David Stevens and Dr.
Charles Fahs for their encouragement. Then to my sponsor, the Society
for Japanese Studies, whose three presidents, Mr. Louis Ledoux, Pro¬
fessor Langdon Warner and Professor Harold Henderson, gave a per¬
sonal approval of the undertaking which has meant more than I can
say; and to the Japan Society for its help before publication. For the
most recent co-operation which assured the book for 1951, my warm
thanks to Harper & Brothers my publishers; to my always indispensable
family for unlimited help and endurance; to Martha Eaton for the end
papers; and to my closest associate in the research and the writing,
Mrs. Olive Boe Johnson.

Crestwood, N. Y.

xiv

Part I

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE
Arts of the Japanese in Our War Relocation Camps

'jfie wilderness tend the solitary fUei'
shall he yLyjorthm ,; and the desert'
shall eyelet, and blossom as the wst~>

isiMi-zmr, 1

PROLOGUE

W HEN our government, early in 1942, issued the order to uproot
and put behind barbed wire more than one tenth of a million
persons of Japanese ancestry, including seventy thousand American-
born citizens, I was, with thousands of other citizens, shocked at the
unprecedented action and angered by the suspicious motives and
sinister forces that seemed to be in the background.

Radio commentators and newspaper columnists suddenly seemed to
lose their heads, and partly because of them, a large portion of the
American public became more and more confused. A low point in
the deliberate campaign of vituperation was reached by a governor of
one of our western states who said in a public speech: “A good solution
to the Jap problem . . . would be to send them all back to Japan, then
sink the island. They live like rats, breed like rats and act like rats.”

As soon as I could, I went to Washington to see Dillon Myer, Direc¬
tor of the War Relocation Authority, whom I had met while he served
in the Department of Agriculture, and outlined a plan to him—that an
exhibition of attractive handicrafts be circulated in the War Relocation
Camps, containing characteristic objects made by Americans of foreign
extraction, including also the Japanese themselves.

This kind of an exhibition would suggest that our nation is made up
of people from many homelands and that there still were many Ameri¬
cans aware of this, who appreciated the rich and varied contributions
our immigrant people have brought to our life and culture. Such an
exhibition, I felt, would help overcome the barriers of language; it
might give these internees a sense of their relatedness to many friendly
people outside; another important thing—it might encourage some of
them to make things with their own hands—this would help to ease
mental strains, and possibly contribute to a good community spirit.
The Japanese, more than any people I knew had a genius for making
something out of almost nothing, so scarcity of materials need not be
considered a deterrent.

[ 3 ]

PROLOGUE

Mr. Myer liked the idea, but made it clear that the Authority could
not undertake it, because any appropriations toward the arts would be
condemned as coddling, and bring fire from a lot of people already
waiting to shoot. But if I could organize such an exhibition, he said,
and get the Russell Sage Foundation, with which I was connected
at the time, to finance it, WRA would give its full co-operation. The
Foundation was not then in a position to help, and since I had a
heavy work schedule with them, I had to give the matter up for the
time, but hoped I could find someone else to undertake it. I kept up
contact with friends in several of the ten Relocation Centers.

One morning, a package arrived from the camp at Jerome, Arkansas.
It contained pebbles picked up from the new gravel road there, which
someone had patiently turned and polished into perfect spheres, so
that figures, colors and veinings revealed unexpected beauties as the
pieces were turned in the light.

Soon, another surprise came, from Poston, Arizona—a tiny bird, sen¬
sitively carved out of wood and painted; followed shortly a glorious
burst of color—three exquisite embroideries from Heart Mountain,
Wyoming. . . . Arkansas; Arizona; Wyoming—what was going on? I
soon found out.

Evacuees, on their own initiative, had begun to make things for
themselves; they were doing the very thing I had wanted to encourage,
and doing it better than I had imagined would be possible, and I
found soon, doing it in every camp. Furthermore, plans were on to
bring these things together for exhibitions in the War Relocation Cen¬
ters. In all the camps, too, they had begun to make their bleak sur¬
roundings more attractive by planting gardens, and trying to make
their tar-paper barracks more beautiful and therefore livable—almost
literally out of nothing, for store-bought supplies were not available.
Barren camps were being transformed gradually into attractive homes
and communities. To some of the camp administrators and the few
visitors from the country round, it was a thrilling revelation of a fine
innate culture.

Now, how could this story be told to the world outside the centers?
It needed to be told. Knowing that there were good photographers
among the evacuees, I tried to arrange by correspondence to get good
photographs of art objects and exhibits. But there was a rule, I found
out, prohibiting evacuees from taking photographs. I then took the
matter up with the official photographic staff of the War Relocation

[ 4 ]

Clem Albers

1. THE SPRING OF 1942 ON OUR PACIFIC COAST

Waiting for the bus to take the family and its possessions to a temporary

ASSEMBLY CENTER, TO WAIT THERE UNTIL BARRACKS COULD BE BUILT IN THE WAR

Relocation Camps.

[ 5 ]

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

Authority, but there were two obstacles; they already had more docu¬
mentary photograph assignments than they could handle; and sec¬
ondly, most of their men were not familiar enough with art subjects
to locate and select the best things and then photograph them to
advantage.

The only solution seemed to be to find good photographers who
could go into the different camps and get what was needed; this would
be expensive. But it seemed to me the record must be made, so, after
some months the necessary funds were raised. Then I could not find
the desired photographer-art-critic/combination, the ones who would
unerringly know what to look for, and then how to take it.

Finally, in the summer of 1945, the last of the camp’s existence, I
decided to use an accumulated vacation period and go into the field
myself. I visited five of the Relocation Centers and sent photographers
and assistants into the remaining four (there were nine camps now
that Jerome was closed). The results were better, even, than I had
expected. With the cordial co-operation of the Photographic Division
of the War Relocation Authority at Denver, Colorado, I went through
some sixty thousand prints and negatives of documentary pictures that
had been taken over the detention period. From these I selected a
few for this book; the remainder seen in these pages were taken for
the purpose, mostly in the field, although some, including the color
subjects, were taken in New York.

It was my intention, at the time of going into the field, to purchase
a number of objects for an exhibition which I hoped could be circu¬
lated throughout the country; but I found that few of the craftsmen
had any thought of selling the things they had made; they were saving
them as “going away gifts,” or to send to friends outside of camp, or
just to keep'm the family. They offered to give me things to the point
of embarrassment, but not to sell them—I wished many times that
governor had come with me.

In those days and nights in the War Relocation Camps I thought
many times of an experience in my native Oregon which gave me a
clearer glimpse of the Japanese mind and heart than I had known
before. We were “rained in” one day, Jo Tominaga and I, in my class¬
room in the School of Architecture and Allied Arts at the University
of Oregon, Jo at his drawing board, I looking over the students’ papers,
waiting for the shower to slacken so we could go home.

[ 6 ]

Clem Albers

2. EVACUATION

From March 22 to August 7, 1942, all persons of Japanese ancestry along

THE COAST OF CALIFORNIA, OREGON, AND WASHINGTON—ONE HUNDRED AND TEN
THOUSAND OF THEM—WERE REMOVED FROM THEIR HOMES AND THEIR WORKING
PLACES TO INLAND DETENTION CENTERS, KNOWN AS WAR RELOCATION CENTERS.

Over seventy thousand of these were American citizens.

[ 7 ]

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

“Jo,” I said, “the sound of the rain on this skylight always reminds
me of our farm home in eastern Oregon where we children, sleeping
in the attic, loved to listen to the sound of the raindrops on the roof.”

Jo did not respond or look up—but after a long silence, said, “It
reminds me of home too. My father was a workman. We lived in a
neighborhood of out-of-door laborers. He built our little house and
made a special garden on our stony plot of ground. When he had
completed the garden, he collected all the leftover stones and piled
them carefully along the edge of the house, below the eaves. On rainy
days, when the neighbors could not work, he would call them in and
they would all make poems to the music of the rain falling from the
roof to the stones below.”

[ 8 ]

Francis Stewart

3. A RELOCATION CENTER

There were ten Relocation Centers in seven states, with a population

RANGE OF FROM FIVE THOUSAND TO SIXTEEN THOUSAND EACH. MOST OF THEM WERE
IN DESERT AREAS-SEE MAP END PAPERS.

Vine, Shells and Kobu

The vine in this picture is artificial, and might have been made in any of
the ten Relocation Centers, for artificial flowers were fashioned everywhere.
This vine was photographed at Gila River, Arizona, and probably made
there. The wood panel with the shellflower decoration came from Tule Lake,
California, the polished natural wood form, or kobu, is probably from
Jerome, Arkansas. It was not unusual to find objects from several camps in
any one of them, because mail communication was free, and there were
transfers of residents from one center to another. Members of the same
family, sometimes located in different camps, would exchange handmade
objects characteristic of their new dwelling places.

Flowers are so essential to the Japanese way of life that almost immedi¬
ately upon arrival at the camps—where, of course, there were no flowers of
any kind—those who could began making them and teaching others how
to make them. Soon there were many flower makers in every center;
foliage and blossoms, entire plants were fashioned from wrapping paper,
newspaper, from cloth, shells or any scrap material which could be adapted
to the purpose.

The wood panel with its delicate shell plum blossoms was made in Tule
Lake, California, though it could have come from Topaz, Utah, as both
these camps were over old lake beds. The branches are of papier-mach6,
and the small bird, carved from wood, is painted in natural colors.

The beautifully finished kobu wood growth, originally part of a tree root
or trunk, has had all surplus deadwood removed, then the solid, enduring
natural core patiently polished by hand. Two camps were especially famous
for kobus —Jerome and Rohwer, in Arkansas.

Mr. Sadayuki, one of the pioneer kobu collectors at Rohwer, learning early
of the effort to record the arts of the War Relocation Camps, sent the writer
one of his choicest pieces, an intertwined maple root; it was the first kobu
the recipient had ever seen, and was a definite lure for the task ahead.

In Jerome and Rohwer the collecting fever swept the camps early; most
of the enthusiasts were men, but some women, and even a few children
joined in. One woman made a collection of more than one hundred kobus.

[ 10 ]

Toyo Miyatake

4. ARTIFACTS FROM THREE CENTERS

Artificial vine from Gila River (Rivers, Arizona); shells on wood, “plum
blossoms,” Tule Lake (Newell, California); polished wood kobu from
Jerome (Densen, Arkansas).

[in

Peacock and Eagle's Nest

At Amache, Colorado, probably more carving of this type was done than
in any other camp. An early start was made through the efforts of Yutaka
Suzuki, who taught the craft to more than twenty residents, none of
whom had ever studied before.

There were at first almost no carving tools in camp, so the men made
their own from discarded saw blades, worn-down files, automobile springs,
and other waste metal; and in the absence of good lumber, they picked
over and used pine slabs from the fuel piles. These slabs were covered with
bark on the outside, but had enough solid wood on the inside for carving
such panels as are shown here. On some pieces where the interior wood
was very thin, parts of the bark would sometimes be appropriately and
cleverly worked into the design. This technique often intrigued the carver,
for it made possible a result he could not achieve from the clear wood or
even from high-grade lumber.

In the case of the panels shown here, the bark has been entirely removed,
but a suggestion of how it was often left can be seen on page J59.

The Eagle's Nest panel is based on an old Japanese design, and was a
favorite subject at Amache; this panel was carved by Mr. Ando. The pea¬
cock was done by Izami Fugita.

[ 12 ]

John D. Sckiff

5. WOOD CARVING IN AMACHE

Granada (Amache, Colorado) developed at least twenty carvers; only

ONE HAD EVER CARVED BEFORE. MOST OF THE WOOD USED WAS BARK-COVERED
SLABS—THAT IS, OUTSIDE CUTS OF THE LOG—FROM THE COMMUNITY FUEL PILES.

[ 13 ]

Plum Blossoms, Pine and Cranes

Many carvings of Occidental subjects were done at Amache, including
those derived from camp life and environment, but it seemed that the best
thought and feeling was expended on such traditional Japanese themes as
are recorded in these panels.

The panel of the two cranes and pine tree was carved and sent to the
writer by I. Tanaka, and led to the discovery of the Amache group of
craftsmen. The other panel, plum blossoms and warbler, was possibly done
by one of the cooks at the women's mess hall.

During an early attempt at Amache to round up as many carvings of this
type as possible, so that final selections could be made, a name—Miss Hall—
was suggested many times as a good contact to make, one who ought to be
seen. The reference was pressed so many times that it gave the impression
that Miss Hall was either a teacher of wood carving herself, or maybe a very
prolific wood carver. When attempts were made to locate the lady she
seemed very elusive, but finally it was revealed that “Miss Hall” should have
been “Mess Hall” and, sure enough, here were many wood carvings dis¬
played on the walls of the room where the residents ate their meals.

[ 14 ]

John D. Schiff

6. MORE WOOD CARVING IN AMACHE

The bark from the pine slabs has been entirely removed in these panels,

BUT BARK WAS SOMETIMES CLEVERLY WORKED INTO THE DESIGNS. A COOK FROM
ONE OF THE MESS HALLS CARVED SEVERAL PANELS AND, BORROWING A FEW MORE
FROM FELLOW CARVERS, USED THEM FOR DECORATING THE ROUGH INTERIOR WALLS

OF THE DINING ROOM.

[ 15 ]

Miniature Sculpture in Sand

When Mrs. Ninomiya and her two sons arrived at Amache, the camp was
enveloped in a sand and dust storm. Those first days were so discouraging,
with the sand blowing everywhere, inside the barracks and out, that she
thought, “We must do something about this.” Then she began to think of sand
as something else than dust and dirt, and remembered one of the old home
arts she had learned in Japan, where sand was an indispensable element, the
making of miniature landscapes, or bon-kei .

But she had no tray; a neighbor, learning of her need, built one for her
of wood from a vegetable crate. In a day or twd she had made something
beautiful of the sand—the camps first bon-kei , a western landscape like the
one shown here. There was a stirring of excitement in her block. Some of
the women wondered if she would teach them.

Realizing the great need of pleasant employment in this new environ¬
ment, she taught two or three close neighbors how to make these charming
little landscapes. The word spread, and in a short time Mrs. Ninomiya had
ninety-two pupils. Later there was a camp exhibition, in which all the
pupils could take part; and here, in a western desert, in a War Relocation
Center, was shown probably the most extensive display of bon-kei ever
seen in the Western world. Some of the tray gardens were of mountain,
desert, and seacoast subjects, but most of them were imaginary Japanese
scenes; and in no cases were there any duplicates. Fortunately, a few
photographs were made. Twelve of these subjects are shown on the follow¬
ing page to suggest their variety and their quality.

There was a new and special incentive for most of the women who made
these bon-kei. They had never before had the time or opportunity to do
work of this kind, and they eagerly took advantage of it. And to most, if not
all of them, there was the fascination of making something beautiful out of
the commonest materials, and here sand was that commonest thing.

The restless little seacoast scene with its lighthouse and tossing ship was
another of Mrs. Ninomiya s pieces which delighted and inspired her
neighbors.

[ 16 ]

John D. Sfhiff

7. MINIATURE LANDSCAPES, GRANADA (AMACHE, COLORADO)

The art of miniature landscapes, bon-kei, meaning landscape on a tray,
HAD ITS FIRST AND PERHAPS ITS BEST DEVELOPMENT IN GRANADA.

[17]

Sand Sculpture by Pupils

The reproduction in so small a form of a dozen of the creations of the
bon-kei makers of Amache cannot do justice to a single one, but it is hoped
that it will suggest the variety of designs and something of the quality of
work which characterized not only this form of expression, but all others in
this and other centers.

This community enterprise at Amache illustrates two characteristics com¬
mon to all the centers: one, the general eagerness to do something worth
while with hands and minds; the other, the willingness of those who were
proficient in some field to teach their neighbors. And out of these emerged
an unforeseen result—the high average ability of the evacuees to do these
things well.

It must have been a great surprise to the Japanese themselves to find how
many of them had the knack of doing things well, yet it really should not
have surprised anyone, for they were merely proving what some of our
most thoughtful Western writers have been telling the world about these
people for a long time. In his History of Art Elie Faure says, “Never was any
people more naturally an artist people; never did such a race draw on a field
of sensibility, of enthusiasm and hope as rich as this one. . . /’

John La Farge wrote to a friend in An Artist's Letters from Japan:

The Japanese sensitiveness to the beauties of the outside world is
something much more delicate and complex and contemplative, and
at the same time more natural than ours has ever been. Outside of
Arcadia, I know of no other land whose people hang verses on the trees
in honor of their beauty; where families travel far before the dawn to
see the first light touch the new buds. Where else do the newspapers
announce the spring opening of the blossoms?

[ 18 ]

*

st

v£b

_ _ v -f* -

la.. r vittitfir rtunl

8. BON-KEI, MINIATURE LANDSCAPES, GRANADA
(AMACHE, COLORADO)

Of more than ninety bon-kei makers at Granada, only one had ever before

PRACTICED THIS ART; ALL THE SUBJECTS ABOVE WERE DONE BY
THESE AMATEUR PUPILS.

Ornamental Writing

Calligraphy, or fine handwriting, has been practiced as an art throughout
the East for centuries. Even such a great Japanese painter as Koyetsu was,
in his time, more renowned for his calligraphy than for his painting.
Laurence Binyon has said that this difficult art trains the hands and eyes,
and calls for the utmost self-control and patience.

Classes in calligraphy were held in every Relocation Center, and countless
examples of fine writing were also used to decorate the walls of the barracks
dwellings and public assembly rooms.

This portrait is of T. Usui, a professional calligrapher, at work in his room
in Rohwer. Declining to be photographed writing on the back of cheap
wallpaper which had for a long time been his substitute, he rests a choice
sheet of Chinese paper on a piece of red velvet, and grinds a fine stick of
slightly perfumed ink, which required two hours of swabbing before it was
ready for use.

The writing was done in complete silence. A child obediently left the
room until the work should be finished, so that there might be no interrup¬
tion of thought or action. The brush strokes were bold and free, coming
from the shoulder rather than from the wrist. Not until the signature and
red stamp had been affixed did the writer relax his concentration.

Mr. Usui explained that ornamental writing “takes a whole lifetime to
learn” and is “very hard to tell.” When suddenly he found that he was to
go with many others to a detention center, he selected a few good brushes,
some ink, and a little fine paper to help him meet whatever was ahead. At the
Arkansas Relocation Center he selected branches of the right form from one
of the newly cut trees, and improvised the brush rack shown at his left.

Mr. Usui, while a fine calligrapher, was also a cobbler, and mended shoes
for his neighbors in Camp Rohwer.

[ 20 ]

Paul Paris

9. CALLIGRAPHY, OR HANDWRITING, WAS PRACTICED IN
EVERY CENTER

Handwriting is one of the favorite arts of the Japanese; the skill of this

MASTER OF CALLIGRAPHY AT ROHWER, ARKANSAS, WAS DEEPLY RESPECTED BY

HIS NEIGHBORS.

[ 21 ]

Oak Leaves in Spring

This was one of the first of hundreds of plant and flower arrangements
worked out by the evacuees at Rohwer, Arkansas. It was done by Mrs.
Hirahara, who went to the woods for her material, as residents of Rohwer and
Jerome, the two extreme inland camps, were permitted early to do . Here,
growing out of a tree stump in a new land clearing, she found these branches
of red oak, just coming into leaf, which, with other wild plants, she com¬
bined into a beautiful arrangement for the Spring Flower Show.

The composition is a record of a sensitive response to the beauties of
nature, too often overlooked. It was set and arranged in a rectangular cook¬
ing vessel, where it was possible to keep it fresh and beautiful until the
catkins of the young oak had dried and dropped off; the green leaves con¬
tinued to grow for several weeks.

The box for holding the vessel was constructed from packing-box boards
which were shaped with a pocketknife, sanded smooth, and finally stained
a soft gray*

Regarding Mrs. Hiraharas arrangement, it might be noted here that ac¬
cording to Japanese nature lore, leaves are affectionately regarded as flowers.
Even a snow-covered landscape is considered to be winter’s floral display,
and the white “six-petaled flakes” as “scentless blossoms.”

[ 22 ]

10. SPRING AT ROHWER, ARKANSAS

This arrangement of young red oak branches and other wild plants is

SYMBOLIC OF WHAT TOOK PLACE IN EVERY CAMP WHEN THE EVACUEES WERE PER¬
MITTED TO GATHER NATIVE MATERIALS.

[ 23 ]

Picket Fence Garden

It would take several volumes to adequately record and describe the
gardens of the ten Relocation Centers, which were developed in seven
different states between March 22, 1942—opening of Manzanar—and March
20, 1946, closing of Tule Lake Center.

The few gardens that can be shown in this book will be symbols for all,
and will suggest the transformations that took place after the Japanese,
through their own initiative, began to construct the beautiful barracks, block,
and special gardens which, through their devotion, they kept going through¬
out the period of detention.

Facing this page are two views of a garden belonging to Mr. Fukudi at
Tule Lake Center. They were taken on an overcast day in the middle of
August, 1945. Rich in color and interesting in composition, the garden is a
good example of what can be done by utilizing the rough materials at
hand, most of which would be regarded as valueless, if not as liabilities, by
the average person. Odds and ends of wood have been shaped into pickets
for the white fence enclosure, and bark-covered slabs from the fuel wood-
pile give the barracks entrance a rustic character, providing an effective
setting for vines and other plants.

The garden extends on two sides of the barracks—the “dry” garden on
the front, and the rock and water garden on the side. At the time of photo¬
graphing it was old enough to have produced some perennials, but it owed
much of its color to annuals, especially to the brilliant morning-glories and
portulaca. Several plants were kept in receptacles so that they could be
moved around from one part of the garden to another as needed.

There was much more to Mr. Fukudi's garden than could appear to the
passer-by; it was necessary to go inside to realize its charming variety, and
to see in the small pool the reflections of clouds by day and the moon and
stars by night.

[ 24 ]

Robert H. Ross

11. A BARRACKS GARDEN AT TULE LAKE, CALIFORNIA

TWO PICTURES OF THE GARDEN BELONGING TO THE FUKUDI FAMILY, EXTENDING
ON TWO SIDES OF THE BARRACKS—THE “DRY” GARDEN, AND THE ROCK AND WATER
GARDEN. Much of the color is provided by morning-glories and PORTULACA.

[ 25 ]

Identification

In all of the Relocation Camps the corners of the barracks and entrances
to the living quarters of the evacuees were identified by large stenciled
numbers, letters, or both. One could check at block headquarters, or at the
administration center office to find out who lived where.

There was no good reason why these temporary homes should continue
to be so coldly anonymous, some of them thought; and soon residents
began raiding the proverbial fuel piles for boards on which to make name
plates. In a short time, family names began to appear beside the entrance
doors; and before long, hundreds were marked with Japanese or English
name plates, or both.

Carved or whittled wood was most often used; some were done very
simply, others had considerable ornamentation. A few of the signs had
painted or brushed-in names.

Often the design or form of a name plate would be partly determined
by the character of the wood chosen, as illustrated in the Kusuda family
name plate. Here the knot in the board was incorporated into the final
design. A Japanese friend, observing it, said, “It may be that the carver was
thinking of a pool of water with iris growing on the bank—in any case, the
knot in the wood was important to his thoughts.”

Mr. Higashida got the idea for his name plate while unpacking freight
which had been shipped in a metal-bound packing case. Taking a strip of
the metal, he stood it on edge and bent it back and forth into well-shaped
letters; when the name was completed he mounted it on a board. These
name plates were among those collected from barracks entrances after the
War Relocation Center at Topaz had closed.

[ 26 ]

John D. Sihiff

12. HOME NAME PLATES AT TOPAZ, UTAH

In all the centers, every family was designated by a number stenciled

ON THE BARRACKS WALL NEAR THE ENTRANCE DOOR; BUT BEFORE LONG MANY OF

the Japanese made name plates of character to dignify their homes.

[ 27 ]

Little Bird from Big Camp

It so happened that the two largest Relocation Centers specialized in the
most diminutive wood carvings. Small bird carving was started at Poston
Center in western Arizona, and here it had its greatest development; then
it was taken up at Gila River, in Rivers, central Arizona. Some carv¬
ings of both birds and small animals were later done in other camps, but
never to anything like the extent it was developed at Poston.

The bird illustrated here—from Poston—is a sparrow. Models for many of
the little carvings were found in copies of the National Geographic. After
the projects got under way, this magazine was deluged with orders for back
numbers, and their documentary color sheets served as guides and inspira¬
tion for many craftsmen. Scores of varieties were whittled out and thousands
of birds painted in natural colors; many of them of fine craftsmanship in both
form and color.

Legs and feet posed a real problem. They had to be delicate to look right,
yet strong enough to bear the weight of the body when resting on a perch;
also they must be firmly attached to the perches, which were usually small
natural twigs. The only solution seemed to be fine strong wire. But where
could anybody get any wire?

Came a shower of wire—not from the clouds—but from window screens.
When the mechanics screened the windows of all the barracks in the camp
they just slapped large flat pieces of netting cut from rolls over the window
frames, tacked them hurriedly at top, sides and bottom, then snipped off
the surplus, which fell to the ground. Sometimes instead of trimming they
left ragged edges, to the delight of many a resident who cut them off clean
and neat. It was reported that the day after the screening job was finished
not half an inch of waste wire could be found anywhere in the camp; the
bird carvers and artificial flower makers had salvaged every snip.

[ 28 ]

John D. Schiff

13. AN AMERICAN SPARROW CARVED IN WOOD AT POSTON

While some birds and animals were carved in every center, this Colorado
River Camp in Arizona outnumbered all others in the quantity and
quality of carved and painted American birds.

[ 29 ]

Gila River Transport

This cart was constructed by a Japanese craftsman at Gila River Center.
Its purpose was to transport stone, wood, and other materials used for the
construction of the many gardens, or furniture and other things too heavy
to carry by hand from one barracks to another, and of course, sometimes
to give the children a ride. While many of the residents had owned cars,
trucks, and other facilities for transportation, the only vehicles they were
allowed to bring to camp were collapsible baby carriages.

The wheels of this cart, so sturdy and attractive in design, are made of
scrap lumber laminated; and the axles are of small pieces of water pipe.

A handcart similar to this, but without a box, was made and used at
Minidoka, Idaho, for hauling the large and heavy volcanic rocks to the
garden illustrated on pages 93 and 95.

[ 30 ]

Toyo Miyatake

14. HANDMADE WOODEN CART IN GILA RIVER, ARIZONA

This very useful community cart was constructed almost entirely of

WOOD; THE WHEELS BEING OF LAMINATED BOARDS, AND THE BODY OF WASTE PACK¬
ING BOXES. The AXLES were made of a piece OF SMALL water pipe.

[ 31 ]

Surprise from a Cypress

Probably no single natural feature in all the ten Relocation Centers
aroused more curiosity and interest among the evacuees than the “kobu”~
there is no exact English translation for that word, but roughly, a kobu is a
curious natural wood growth found in trees, usually about the roots, but
sometimes along the trunk or on the branches.

Once dead bark and enveloping decayed wood is removed, the cherished
kobu is revealed—unusual in form, beautiful in grain, often rare in color, and
no two of them ever alike. Then follow hours of hand-rubbing. Cypresses
can often be counted upon to produce them, but almost any variety of
hardwood and some conifers may also have them.

Although kobus can be used for door stops, paperweights and other “prac¬
tical” purposes, the Japanese are satisfied just to see and feel them. Other
kobus are on pages 11, 107 and 115.

The camps richest in these natural treasures were Rohwer and Jerome, in
Arkansas, where kobu hunting was one of the first interests to be developed.
When Jerome was closed, one of the most ardent gleaners was transferred
to faraway Heart Mountain, Wyoming. Through some manner or means he
managed to transport his collection of about one hundred kobus , some of
them weighing fifty or more pounds apiece, to his new station. Among them
were formations both weird and beautiful, and his nature pieces were to
many the wonder of the camp.

One of the former residents of Jerome, who visited New York for the first
time after his relocation was asked what in the city interested him most. He
replied, “The trees in Central Park and Brooklyn where I have been looking
for kobus”

It must not be thought that the hunting for kobus was done at the ex¬
pense of living trees; it was the many trees that had been felled in the build¬
ing of the camps that supplied most of the coveted wood forms. An account
of the attitude of the Japanese toward cutting down trees is related by
Laurence Binyon in The Spirit of Man in Asian Art. Mr. Binyon* wanted a
facsimile of a famous wooden statue of Kwannon, the Bodhisattva of Com¬
passion, for the British Museum.

Its delivery was long delayed [he writes]. We heard that no suitable
camphor tree could be found, and it had to be made of camphor wood,
like the original. At last a prince offered a majestic tree in his grounds
for the purpose, and a religious service was held before the tree, and
pardon was asked for cutting it down, as it was to become a divine
image.

[ 32 ]

Toyo Miyatake

15. KOBU FROM GILA, ARIZONA

Kobu HUNTING WAS CARRIED ON MOST EXTENSIVELY AT JEROME AND ROHWER,
TERRITORY RICH IN fcobli-YIELDING CYPRESS AND OTHER AMERICAN HARDWOODS,
AND ALSO IN THE GlLA RlVER COUNTRY.

[ 33 ]

Sagebrush and the Japanese

A took could, and probably should be written on the subject of “Sage¬
brush and the Japanese/' for surely they were the first to see beauty in this
the commonest, and to many of us the least aesthetic of the desert plants of
the western states. But to them it had great attraction, and at Minidoka it
was a favorite decorative plant form, possibly the most popular local plaAt.

In this photograph, Mr. K. Yuasa, of Minidoka Center, Idaho, a dis¬
tinguished professional flower arranger, is shaping some sagebrush for one
of his fine bronze containers which rests on a polished board made espe¬
cially for it. With skill and artistry he is completing his arrangement in the
traditional three-level form.

Some of the Japanese craftsmen at this center also discovered unusual
and interesting decorative possibilities in cross sections of the stem of this
lowly plant. These cross sections are not round, as in most plant forms, but
almost triangular, resembling miniature fans. The end grain has a peculiar
character, the growth resembling a wire cable which in this instance is
triangular in form. In any case, it is quite different from the cross section of
most plants, and that difference gives it distinction and arouses the creative
spirit of the craftsman to make something special of it. The Japanese used
short cross sections of the sagebrush stems to make decorative insets, im¬
bedding them in plastic wood, in plastics, and in cement, and finally polish¬
ing the end grain.

Minidoka was surrounded by sagebrush, yet special gardens of it were
developed, largely by thinning, and clumps of it were trimmed as decorative
features of the landscape.

[ 34 ]

Jo Tanaka

16. ARRANGING SAGEBRUSH AT MINIDOKA, IDAHO

The Japanese saw beauty in this commonest of American desert plants,

AND USED IT FOR DECORATION EXTENSIVELY IN BARRACKS HOMES AND ART EXHIBI¬
TIONS in Camp Minidoka (Hunt), Idaho.

[ 35 ]

Treasures in a Barracks Corner

This is a corner in the tiny barracks apartment of the Abe family at
Minidoka, Idaho. They had occupied a six-room house in Portland, Oregon;
now three members of the family lived in an eighteen by twenty foot space
divided into three parts by paper partitions and imagination. This photo¬
graph shows two walls of the 4 sitting room,” which the homemakers have
lined with composition board and decorated with attractive objects, most of
them made by their friends or themselves in the camp, and also with natural
objects discovered in or near Minidoka.

The calligraphy was done in Minidoka and in other centers; the inscription
in Japanese on the fan-shaped piece of wood on one of the shelves is
“Patience.” Two wooden panels on the right wall have inscribed on them
poems written by Mrs. Abe, whose verse had won awards in various poetry
contests. Every camp had its poetry societies, and Minidoka participated
locally and in intercamp writing activities. Mrs. Abe was also expert in her
flower arrangements.

Mr. Abe was especially interested in nature forms, several of which are
shown in this photograph. Perhaps his favorite find was the stone rabbit
shown on the shelf at the left. It is enlarged in the next photograph.

[ 36 ]

Jo Tanaka

17. CORNER OF LIVING AND SLEEPING ROOM AT MINIDOKA, IDAHO

This part of the barracks has been decorated with things made by the

FAMILY AND NEIGHBORS, AND BY NATURAL OBJECTS FOUND IN OR NEAR CAMP.

[ 37 ]

Red Stone Nature Sculpture

This red stone rabbit, one of the decorations in the Abe’s home shown on
the previous page, is exactly as found on the desert near Minidoka, excepting
that Mr. Abe has provided a polished wood base to support it.

In making a base to fit his stone piece, Mr. Abe was following an old
Japanese practice of setting off the quality of any chosen object with a
special stand or pedestal.

Mr. Jiro Harada, of the Imperial Household Museums of Japan, states that
there still prevails among the Japanese the ancient custom of enjoying rare
stones by themselves.

Provided with individual wooden stands, they are placed on ones
writing desk or in tokonoma (alcoves in the guest room), that the gazer
may be led into reveries by the fancies their shapes suggest, such as
mountains, immense cliffs or some natural phenomena. A stone with a
white streak or vein may suggest a waterfall, the sound of which may be
heard, or rather felt, in the momentary solitude of one’s room. . . .

Another way of enjoying them which has been for centuries and still
is popular among the Japanese, is known as sui-seki (water-stone). A
natural stone of desirable shape is placed in a . . . tray or dish with
sand and water. Months and years of patient watering and care may,
according to the kind of stone used, bring forth a thin coating of moss,
enlivening the stone with a verdure like a mountain or an island with
forest and meadows. [Encyclopaedia Britannica 14th Edition]

[ 38 ]

Jo Tanaka

18. A CLOSE-UP OF AN OBJECT FROM THE PREVIOUS PAGE

A STONE RABBIT, EXACTLY AS FOUND, EXCEPTING FOR THE WOOD BASE PROVIDED
FOR HIM. THE STONE ALSO RESEMBLES THE CHINCHILLA, AND IS EVERY BIT AS RARE.

For the Sacred Recess

This Buddhist house shrine or temple, made at Minidoka, is to fit into a
sacred recess, where the family's ancestral tablets are kept. One by one as
the various members of the family get up in the morning, they proceed to
the temple, ring a small bell, bow, and recite a short prayer.

Other rituals are correspondingly simple. The congregations assemble in
the temples to receive spiritual sustenance from sermons, the people carry
their rosary beads with them, and they turn to their priests for comfort and
guidance.

The tormenting belief in the horrors of various Buddhist hells never did
disturb the Japanese people very much. Faith in numerous kindly, pro¬
tecting spirits and deities, ever ready to enter into personal communication
and relationships with them far outweighs the fear philosophy. Buddhist
religious festivals—and there are many of them—are entirely of a joyous char¬
acter. Photographs of a Buddhist festival dance held at Amache, Colorado,
are shown on pages 123 and 125.

The Japanese people's deep love of nature is closely interwoven with
their religious feelings; in fact, it is a religion. And Buddhism teaches them
that nature is endowed with spirits not essentially unlike those of men.

[ 40 ]

Jo Tanaka

19. A HOUSE TEMPLE MADE AT MINIDOKA, IDAHO

This Buddhist house temple was made mainly from packing crate wood.
The only parts not made in camp were the small brocade and

THE SILK CORD.

[ 41 ]

Mostly About Mr. Nag ah am a

Exquisite embroidery was done in every camp, but the decorative needle¬
work of Heart Mountain deserves special mention. Probably more people
in proportion to the population did embroidery there than in any of the ten
centers, due mainly to the influence of the first instructor at the camp, Mr.
Nagahama, a former teacher of this great traditional art of Japan. He was
past seventy-five years of age when he was taken from his studio in
southern California to the Wyoming camp.

Seeing many with idle hands, and believing that some of them would be
happier if their hands and minds were creatively occupied, he approached
the authorities and offered to teach embroidery to anyone who might care
to learn.

At first his idea was not regarded as practical, so nothing was done about
it. He repeated his offer; finally, to his third request he was told that he
might try if he wished, but there was no material available in the camp for
this kind of work.

Taking a piece of cloth, which he had packed with his belongings on
leaving home, and cutting it into a dozen small pieces, Mr. Nagahama
divided his supply of silk thread equally among the charter members of his
class, and settled down to teaching them the basic techniques. Friends and
neighbors were charmed at the quality and rich color of even these first
pieces.

Enthusiasm for the project caught on and spread; it was not long before
its success had far outstripped expectations; at one time more than six
hundred and fifty pupils were enrolled, and special exhibitions of needlework
were being held as established features of the arts and adult education
program.

Even Mr. Nagahama was surprised at the latent talent that was brought
to the surface. Prior to evacuation, most of these women had been engaged
in more strenuous, practical pursuits, trying to maintain an economic foot¬
hold in the United States, and therefore had little opportunity or time for
recreation. One of the finest early examples of needlework was done by a
Japanese woman who had spent most of her time since coming to America
working in a truck garden.

[ 42 ]

John D, Schiff

20. EMBROIDERY-CHICKENS AND WHEAT

This embroidery, equally distinguished in design, color, and fine crafts¬
manship, WILL HAVE TO SERVE AS A SYMBOL FOR ALL THE CAMPS, BECAUSE ITS
ORIGIN IS NOT KNOWN; IT WAS SENT IN TO NEW YORK, PHOTOGRAPHED, AND RE¬
TURNED TO THE OWNER WITHOUT A RECORD BEING MADE OF IT.

[ 43 ]

Desert Shells

This flower composition was made from shells at Tule Lake Center, Cali¬
fornia, the camp in which this craft originated. Many variations in size and
shape can be distinguished if one studies the photograph. These hard, per¬
manent little specimens have been so carefully and skillfully selected and
arranged that they give the illusion of having been modeled. Such an effect
calls for patience, skill, and above all, good taste.

Two of the Relocation Camps were on or near old shell beds—Tule Lake,
as mentioned above, and Topaz, Utah. When the surface supply of good
shells was eventually exhausted, the residents had to dig for them, and
found them in beds from one to four feet below the ground. Oftentimes the
numerous ants in the vicinity very accommodatingly brought desirable tiny
shells to the surface.

After gathering, sifting, and sorting, the shells would be brought to camp,
there to be washed and bleached in a weak chlorine solution, then assembled
and arranged into countless compositions.

Shells would sometimes be carried from one camp to another, especially
in case of transfer of residence, but most of this work was carried out at
Tule Lake or Topaz. The shells of Topaz were discovered by camp residents
out looking for arrowheads.

An expert shell worker at Topaz, Mrs. Komija Inouye, designed beautiful
shadow boxes, and at one time she was teaching the craft to a class of fifty
pupils. Picture frames, necklaces, bracelets and earrings were among the
decorative pieces made. A well-remembered lily-of-the-valley composition
was composed of dozens of tiny pointed shells.

[ 44 ]

John D. Sibtff

21. ARTIFICIAL FLOWERS OF SHELLS
Two camps—Topaz and Tule Lake—were situated on or near old lake beds;

THIS SPRAY OF FLOWERS WAS MADE AT TULE LAKE, CALIFORNIA.

[ 45 ]

No Idle Hands

With such wonder and curiosity reaching out in every direction, it was
inevitable that each camp should reflect something of the special features of
its environment and the diversity of its activities. The craftsmen illus¬
trated here, suggest something of this diversity which made every camp of
interest to residents of the other camps, and gave the one hundred and ten
thousand persons gathered in the ten War Relocation Centers a range of
activities of extraordinary interest and unity. These craftsmen are from
four separate camps. Regrettably, the names of none of them are known.

The photograph of a pupil throwing pottery on the kick wheel was taken at
Heart Mountain. There was not time or opportunity to do much with pot¬
tery in the camps, but it did get into the list of handicrafts which the WRA
educational program fostered and there can be little doubt that the eager
Nisei craftsmen at the wheel achieved good results in throwing.

The stone carver at the right is at work at Manzanar, California. He
brought from his native Japan a knowledge of, and an interest in, the slate
and stone of the western mountains that could not have come in any other
way, for he saw in the ledge of rocks the ancient inkstones of the East, as
other Japanese did, and they made hundreds of stones, many of them beau¬
tiful. Inasmuch as both handwriting and water-color painting were done
with the liquid ink—that is, the ink ground on these stones—the craftsmen
who made them contributed very much to the convenience of the callig¬
raphers and painters, especially those who learned these arts in the camp
and therefore had not brought ink-making facilities with them. Most of the
inkstones were made at Manzanar, California and Topaz, Utah.

Weaving, as has been said, had its fullest and probably finest expression
at the camps in Arkansas, through the fact that equipment was made avail¬
able and good teachers worked with the Japanese women who showed both
skill and taste, even though hand weaving was new to them. In the lower
left photograph, the “Venetian blind-like” weaving, using sticks left over
from building barracks, was characteristic of the inventions of the weavers at
Rohwer, where this photograph was taken.

The artificial flower makers in this photograph were at Granada, or
Amache, Colorado, but they might have been in any other camp, for any¬
thing that had to do with flowers, natural or artificial, their raising or their
arrangement, drew as a magnet great numbers of Japanese residents to the
classes.

[ 48 ]

22. FOUR HANDICRAFTS FROM FOUR CENTERS

Upper left (photo Paul Faris ): weaving at Rohwer, Arkansas. Upper right:
pottery making at Heart Mountain. Lower left (photo Toxjo Miyatake):
stone carving at Manzanar. Lower right (photo Pat Coffey): ARTIFICIAL
flower work at Amache, Colorado.

[ 47 ]

Prehistoric Palette

The slate from near Topaz had a special appeal for the residents, because
of the interesting fossils often found imbedded in the stone—fossils of both
animal and plant forms.

One of the favorite experiments with the slate cutters of Topaz was to
locate a fossil and split a piece of the slate in two so that the fossil would
remain unbroken but imbedded in one of the pieces. The inkstone opposite
shows how skillfully the fossil was handled.

It required experience and good judgment to know just where to strike
the slate to make it break without injury to the fossil, and whenever pos¬
sible to preserve the matrix, so that when the two pieces were brought
together again the fossil would form a kind of fastener or anchor for the
upper and lower pieces.

[ 48 ]

John D. Sckiff

23. WRITING MATERIALS WITH INKSTONE FROM NATIVE SLATE

This inkstone, from slate millions of years old, with imbedded fossils,

WAS SHAPED, PROBABLY, AT TOPAZ, UTAH. A LITTLE WATER IS PLACED IN THE
WELL, THE India ink STICK moistened and rubbed against the stone until a
LIQUID OF THE RIGHT CONSISTENCY IS PRODUCED.

[ 49 ]

Portulaca Garden

The Friends Service Committee, in its earliest efforts to brighten the lives
of one hundred and ten thousand uprooted persons in the War Relocation
Camps, thoughtfully and wisely placed flower seeds near the top of the list
of essentials. “Beauty is hard to find,” they wrote in their appeal for con¬
tributions. They knew the Japanese hunger for the colors and forms of
nature, and of course, of their genius in growing all kinds of plants.

The brilliant and charming hardy annual, portulaca, was one of the first
to reward the gardeners, especially in desert and semidesert regions where
the thin, dry soil *nd soaking sunshine encouraged it along. At Rohwer,
Arkansas, portulaca was planted extensively and with its many-colored
blossoms and dark green foliage it was in beautiful contrast to the light-
colored sand and gravel roadways.

These two scenes in the same block at Rohwer, taken one morning in
early summer, suggest how, in a few weeks after planting, the portulaca
brought its rewards to these families who relied upon it as their main source
of color and bloom. At first glance, the planting, excepting in the geometric
rows, seems almost accidental, then one realizes that in every case seeds
had to be dropped and covered in places which had been prepared for
them, and that the casual fringe alongside the manhole is part of a care-
fully-thought-out plan.

Here, as in landscape painting, one senses that to know what to leave
out—that is, unplanted—is just as important as what to include. There
were memorable examples of restrained planting in every camp; in some
places one single package of the microscopic portulaca seeds brought spar¬
kling beauty to the small yards of half a dozen barracks.

[ 50 ]

Paul Fans

24. BLOCK 29, ROHWER, ARKANSAS CAMP

These graveled walks of Rohwer were edged with portulaca, and a clump

PLANTED TO DECORATE THE MANHOLE. THE TREE STUMPS FROM RECENTLY CLEARED
LAND ADD INTERESTING VARIETY TO THE GARDEN PLOTS.

[51]

Transformations

At most of the camps, when the evacuees arrived, there were no build¬
ing materials available for improving or disguising the bleak barracks ex¬
teriors; in fact, at most camps there were rules against alterations or additions
to structures. However, at Poston, Arizona, where the upper photograph
was taken, there were some trees, sticks, and stones which the residents, in
some instances, were allowed to make use of to change approaches, en¬
trances, or both, and even, as in the example shown, to mask old barracks
structures with new facades.

Here, in this transformed barracks exterior is another instance of Japa¬
nese ability to combine appropriateness and economy in happy proportions
and their genius for making the best use of whatever facilities are at hand.
The scraps, the irregular pieces of wood, the stones on the ground, and
other materials, become assets in the hands of such flexible craftsmen. There
are suggestions in this for all of us—artists, craftsmen, and homemakers
alike.

In a photograph, page 25, of a garden at Tule Lake, the successful
utilization of slab wood is shown. Here in Poston, limbs and branches make
up fences and walls, while in other camps it was the utilization of native
rock and stone, as in the Minidoka rock garden, pages 93 and 95.

The photograph opposite, of hedges and green living walls, was taken
at Manzanar, and suggests the abundance of plant growth in that camp.
These conditions gave the Japanese special opportunities to apply their
gardening know-how and landscape traditions and principles to the new
home sites.

Trees and hedges are of swift-growing locust; the 'skirt” of twigs
and branches is a clever and attractive device for masking scraggly ir¬
regularities along the roots, an idea that amateur gardeners will probably
want to copy. Willows were used at some of the camps for hedges and
borders, and at Topaz enthusiasts trained some of their hundreds of flame-
colored fire bushes into interesting hedges, perhaps the most unique being
one in which the name topaz was carefully trimmed out.

In some camps hardly a stick or stone was available; nevertheless, the
note of beauty had to be achieved, and was achieved, through the use of
strings and vines. Morning-glories, pumpkin vines and gourds transformed
hundreds of barren entrances into bowers of enchantment.

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7'ojo Miyatake

25. NEW ENTRANCE FOR BARRACKS; LOCUST HEDGE FOR YARDS

At Poston, Arizona, several new approaches and facades were constructed
of materials found in or near camp. At Manzanar, hedges of locust and

OTHER TREES AND SHRUBS ENCLOSED SOME OF THE YARDS.

More Transformations

Almost immediately upon crossing the thresholds of their tar-paper bar¬
racks, many of the Japanese began thinking about what they might do to
make their living quarters more habitable and attractive. Empty rooms
with rough walls and two-by-four framework, one ceiling light bulb, a pot¬
bellied coal stove, iron cot-beds with a minimum supply of drab bedding-
no chairs, no tables, or other furniture; that was, in general, the forlorn
picture that greeted them. At first as many as seven people were crowded
into one barrack unit twenty by twenty-four feet in size. Privacy was im¬
possible.

They had been able to bring only the barest necessities with them, and
there were no materials in camp with which to work; that is, there were
no materials to the ordinary eye. But the Japanese are resourceful people
and usually think that something can be done about anything, with the
result that each passing day saw little things done, both inside the bar¬
racks and out.

One of their first efforts was to modify and, where possible, to disguise
the roughness of the interiors: smoothing and rubbing down framework,
painting, whitewashing, as they were able to get paint and whitewash, or
covering sections with paper wherever possible and appropriate, applying
decorations, constructing furniture from any salvageable material the camp
offered. As time passed, the evacuees were able to purchase some materials
from outside, and these, combined with things sent in by friends, gradually
transformed camps into homes of simplicity, character, and quality. These
changes took place in all ten of the Relocation Centers within the seven
states.

Here is a barracks room at Granada, Colorado (better known by the
post office name Amache), which this family fixed up with their own hands
and at their own expense, covering the two-by-four framework with com¬
position board, cutting niches and bookshelves into the board and lining
them, covering windows with paper stretched on lattice framework to
soften the glaring desert light, constructing simple pieces of furniture, the
roughness, in some cases, partially concealed by bedclothes. The ceiling is
of wrapping paper, which served temporarily to keep out the dust, until
replaced by composition board, which would last for the duration.

[ 54 ]

Tom Parker

26. CONVERTING BARRACKS INTO HOMES AT AMACHE, COLORADO

Cheerless buildings of boards, covered with tar paper, and rough walls

WITH TWO-BY-FOUR FRAMING INSIDE, WERE GRADUALLY CHANGED BY THE RESIDENTS
AT THEIR OWN EXPENSE INTO NEAT, CLEAN APARTMENTS. THEY USED COMPOSITION
BOARD LINING, AND ROUGH BUT COMFORTABLE HOMEMADE FURNITURE.

[ 55 ]

Cactus Transplanted

The Gila River Center, occupying an unused portion of an Arizona Indian
reservation, is sui "ted in famous cactus country, where scores of species
of the prickly plan, range in size from a fraction of an inch up to a sixty-
or even seventy-fool-high cactus tree, the saguaro.

One of the earliest exploits of new residents was to bring together many
of these varieties, transplanting them from the desert to their camp gardens.
The photograph shows a portion of one of these cactus gardens whose
plants are thriving in their new location. Looking not at all incongruous in
this southwestern setting is a Japanese stone lantern in the background;
any Japanese garden lantern, whether lighted or not, symbolizes light
dispelling darkness, and that thought is borne in mind whenever one
is placed. A simple trellis and fence arrangement pulls the whole unit
together.

Another instance in which native plants of a region were utilized ex¬
clusively, was the rock garden at Minidoka, Idaho, pictured on pages 93
and 95. These two gardens of native plants, plus the four or five cultivated
ones which are described in these pages, convey only a hint of the variety,
beauty, and charm of the hundreds of gardens developed in the ten War
Relocation Centers.

[ 56 ]

Toyo Miyatake

27. GARDEN OF NATIVE CACTUS, GILA RIVER, CENTRAL ARIZONA

The dispossessed residents made use of local materials to make their new

HABITATIONS MORE ATTRACTIVE; THIS GARDEN OF NATIVE CACTUS PLANTS AT GlLA
WAS ONE RESULT OF THIS ADAPTATION.

[ 57 ]

Students

Flower arrangement, or ikebana (“living flower”), was studied, taught,
and practiced in every one of the ten War Relocation Centers. The photo¬
graph opposite shows a regular class in the barracks school at Rohwer,
Arkansas, arranging flowers under the guidance of a teacher.

There are several schools of ikebana . In all of them, three principles—
heaven, earth, and man are invariably represented in an effort to indicate
man’s relation to the universe. In Japan, the art has always been regarded
as “an elegant accomplishment, though by no means an effeminate one.”

Josiah Conder, in his authoritative volume, Theory of Japanese Flower
Arrangements, gives some idea of the high esteem in which the art of
flower arranging has long been held. He says that the following merits are
attributed to those engaged in its pursuit:

“The privilege of associating with superiors. (KoishikkoJ*

“Ease and dignity before men of rank. (Sejijo joko.)”

“A serene disposition and forgetfulness of cares. (Muitannen.)”

“Amusement in solitude. (Dokuraku katarazu.)”

“Familiarity with the nature of plants and trees. (Somoku meichij*

“The respect of mankind. (Shujin aikio.)”

“Constant gentleness of character. (Chobo furiu.)”

“Healthiness of mind and body. (Seikon gojo.)”

“A religious spirit. (Shinbusu haizo.)”

“Self-abnegation and restraint. (Showaku ribetsu .)”

[ 58 ]

Paul Faris

28. FLOWER ARRANGEMENT CLASS, ROHWER, ARKANSAS

The traditional Japanese art of flower arranging was studied and prac-

TICED IN EVERY CAMP.

[ 59 ]

Mess Hall Dressed Up

The art exhibitions to which the residents of the center and the adminis¬
trative staff and visitors had access, were public exhibitions. But often more
intimate, special exhibitions were held for the benefit of class members;
they were usually of brief duration, and little or no record was made of
them.

This photograph shows a section of one of these “little” exhibitions given
by a class in flower arrangement at Rohwer, Arkansas. Both native and
cultivated plants are used, and quite in contrast to the earlier shows, where
the containers were fashioned of local wood, metal, stone, or what not,
these containers include bronze, pottery, and porcelain of wide variety,
because by then the residents had been able to get things from outside the
camps.

The flowers are placed on tables from the mess halls. On top of the tables
long strips of paper—either wrapping paper, or the blank side of wallpaper—
furnish a uniform surface and pull the exhibits together.

Covering windows and unfinished walls are lengths of inexpensive cloth
hung in folds, making a pleasant neutral background for the strips of orna¬
mental writing and the scenic water-color paintings and an occasional
kakemono—a. vertical wall picture. Almost always the flower arrangement
exhibits were shown along with calligraphy or painting or both.

A good background is indispensable to an attractive exhibit, a principle
which the Japanese understand thoroughly. Their exhibits were usually ar¬
ranged with taste, a strong sense of order, and with an economy which
only close study would reveal.

[ 60 ]

Paul Paris

29. CLASS EXHIBITION AT ROHWER, ARKANSAS

Single flower arrangements, such as these, with harmonizing background

PANELS OF ORNAMENTAL WRITING OR SYMBOLICAL DRAWINGS, MAKE APPROPRIATE
DECORATIONS FOR THE TRADITIONAL RAISED ALCOVE (tokonoma) IN A JAPANESE

LIVING ROOM.

[ 61 ]

Interpreter

Every one of the War Relocation Camps had its quota of painters. To
record their individual interpretations and achievements would require
more than the pages of this book. Perhaps nothing connected with the wide
range and variety of the arts practiced in the camps aroused as much interest
and sometimes wistfulness among fellow residents as those painters who
made records of their new homes and environments. This scene at Amache is,
in a sense, typical of what happened at all the centers whenever a painter sat
down on his camp stool and got to work.

Many began to paint in camp for the first time. "I thought it would be
better to study and paint than to run around playing cards,” said one Topaz
resident. He took some lessons, and before long was much on his own. A
woman at Topaz who had wanted to paint since she was six years old,
took advantage here of her first opportunity. “When I paint,” she said, “all
dust goes away out of my life.”

[ 62 ]

Tom Parker

30. A RESIDENT PAINTER AT AMACHE, COLORADO

Every camp had its painters, several of them recording vital scenes of

CAMP LIFE AROUND THEM. THIS AMACHE RESIDENT IS MAKING A WATER COLOR OF
THE BARRACKS AND THEIR SETTING, WHERE HE AND HIS INTERESTED NEIGHBORS LIVE.

[ 63 ]

Subzero Coalbin

Heart Mountain, in northwestern Wyoming, with its population of twelve
thousand residents, was the farthest north, the coldest, and in some respects
the least prepared for winter of any of the ten camps. The fuel most de¬
pended upon was coal, and facilities for getting it into, and handling it in
camp were often sadly bungled.

This painting of “Winter” was made by Mrs. Estelle Ishigo, a painter
and a musician who contributed many drawings and sketches to the Office
of Reports at Heart Mountain Center, and painted many scenes of camp
life which will long stand among the best documentary records of this ex¬
perience.

The several reports sent in to Washington from Heart Mountain were,
in point of form, the most unusual from any of the War Relocation Centers.
The typing of these reports was excellent in both composition and impres¬
sion; but it was the illustrations, the sketches by Japanese members of the
staff, and often a full-page water color by Mrs. Ishigo, which gave them
special distinction.

Mrs. Ishigo was not of Japanese ancestry, and was not therefore com¬
pelled to go to a Relocation Camp. But her husband was Japanese and she
went to be with him and remained for the duration. She taught both paint¬
ing and music at Heart Mountain and shared the experiences of the other
evacuees.

[ 64 ]

H. Sturm

31. “WINTER”; PAINTING BY ESTELLE ISHIGO AT HEART MOUNTAIN,

WYOMING

Winter came early and seemed bitterly cold for many of the trans¬
planted RESIDENTS WHO HAD NEVER EXPERIENCED SNOW BEFORE. COAL FOR
WARMING THE BARRACKS WAS DUMPED IN THE VILLAGE STREETS.

[ 65 ]

Gunnysack Metamorphosis

Few of the Relocation Centers offered good opportunities for any but
the simplest kinds of weaving; but at Rohwer weaving became an im¬
portant feature of the handicrafts program, with increasingly notable re¬
sults.

Work at this camp began on a single old reconditioned loom. At first
there were no weavers experienced enough to use it, but eventually Miss
Adeline Lee was assigned by the WRA to a handicrafts program at this
center. She taught three of the Japanese girls how to string up the old loom
and operate it, leaving them free, when they had mastered the mechanism,
to use their own initiative, and design and weave as they wished. Seeing
the loom in operation, others in turn wanted to learn. At about this time
WRA fell heir to some surplus looms from the National Youth Administra¬
tion and the Works Progress Administration, and then the fun began. Al¬
though materials were very hard to get, women made many useful and at¬
tractive things for the barracks homes, and for their personal and family use.

Rugs such as these were woven from unraveled burlap and gunnysacking
found in the camp warehouse, where it had been ripped off incoming freight
items—furniture, mattresses, produce, etc. The women weavers patiently
unraveled the material, then washed the “yarn,” dyed part of it with vege¬
table dyes, and worked it into rugs for their barracks apartments. These
two rugs were designed and woven from feed sacks by Mrs. Akimato, a
doctor s wife. Each rug required eight to eleven sacks.

Later, after the residents were able to get good thread and yarn, they
created some beautiful textiles, individual and distinctive in color, design
and texture, and pleasantly reminiscent of traditional Japanese fabrics.

One especially interesting texture was obtained by weaving in row after
row of flat slender sticks. This attractive material was used as a substitute
for Venetian blinds. A glimpse of it is shown in the group of handicrafts
on page 47.

At one time several bundles of old clothes were sent into the camps as
gifts—these were cut into strips, and the seemingly tireless women made
over seven hundred rag rugs of them.

[ 66 ]

Light under a Bushel

In every camp, exhibitions of the arts and crafts of its residents were
given with more or less regularity. But often fine pieces missed being shown
at these public exhibitions, either because their existence was unknown to
those in charge, or because modest craftsmen didn’t realize how good they
actually were.

One instance of talent hidden under a bushel was accidentally revealed
in Minidoka late in 1945. During a preliminary survey of the camp, the
writer made a stop at a barracks home hoping to obtain some needed in¬
formation. The resident was not at home, but while speaking with his wife,
the writer noticed a very interesting wood carving on the wall, and asked if
it had come from Japan. She said no, that her husband had done it; but
he had never submitted it for public showing, believing it not good enough.

After being assured that there was a difference of opinion on the point
of its quality, the lady shyly brought to light three or four more pieces,
all of such merit that permission was asked to have them photographed. The
wood carver later consented; thus was preserved for these pages two of
his sensitive, finely executed carvings.

The wood used is probably Douglas fir from the most prolific evergreen
tree of the Pacific Northwest, a tree of unusual grain, which shows to great
advantage in these carvings.

[ 68 ]

Jo Tanaka

33. WORK OF A MODEST CARVER, MINIDOKA, IDAHO

These superior carvings were done by a craftsman who thought ms work

NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO EXHIBIT.

[ 69 ]

Barnyard Reveille

Embroidery was included in most of the art exhibitions at all of the
Relocation Centers. As already stated, probably the greatest development of
fine needlework took place in Heart Mountain, where the response to the
opportunity to learn exceeded anyone’s expectations. However, there was
not a single camp that did not develop some fine needleworkers, and at
Rohwer, where the example illustrated was done, a large number of women
turned naturally to this renowned craft of their forefathers.

“Forefathers” is not a misnomer here; for centuries the greatest Japanese
embroideries have been done by especially trained men and boys. An in¬
teresting sketch by Hokusai shows three men of his time sitting on the floor
at work on a piece of silk, stretched in a table frame. In the camps, the
majority of embroiderers were women who, since coming to America, had
never before had the opportunity to learn this craft.

“Rooster and Sunrise” is one of the selections for Rohwer’s final exhibition,
held in the fall of 1945—probably the last held in any of the centers, for
by this time the majority of residents had left the camps. This piece is
distinguished for its brilliant, harmonious colors, and for the unusual variety
of stitches employed. The comb of the rooster has two shades of red French
knots; other colors are gold, blue, tan, white, gray, and greens. It was
executed by Mrs. T. Katsuki, whose signature appears in the lower right-
hand corner of the picture.

[ 70 ]

Paul Farrs

34. EMBROIDERY OF MANY COLORS AND MANY STITCHES

This extraordinary example of needlework was made for the final art
EXHIBITION HELD IN ROHWER, ARKANSAS, IN 1945.

[ 71 ]

Canes and Dr. Kioke

Curious natural wood forms were sought, collected and used by the wood-
minded, and in these camp communities in which most of the getting
about was by foot, it was inevitable that walking sticks in natural forms
would be searched for, and others shaped for use.

Walking was usually the only means of getting about within the com¬
munities; and after relaxation of boundary rules in certain camps, walking
excursions into the neighboring countryside became a favorite pastime. So
collecting walking sticks began on small or large scale and in great variety;
one man in Granada skinned a rattlesnake and covered his cane with it.

The sticks shown here are from the collection of Dr. Kioke of Minidoka,
Idaho, who found the crooked, gnarled shapes of the wasteland sagebrush
and greasewood particularly interesting for his purpose. His hobby finally
included canes from the other camps. Dr. Kioke, a specialist on the Minidoka
Center Hospital staff, was also a landscape photographer of international
fame—one of his books, published in Japan, was on the scenery of Mount
Ranier National Park, illustrated with his photographs.

In the little room at the hospital, where the writer visited him, the doctor
had many wonderful things; he kept pulling them out of drawers, from under
the bed, from behind curtains. He wrote and collected poetry, and had a
collection of about one hundred beautifully pressed local botanical speci¬
mens. He was a silent man, but his varied interests spoke eloquently for him.

[ 72 ]

Jo Tanaka

35. COLLECTION OF CANES, MINIDOKA, IDAHO

Walking was the major outdoor sport of the camps, so canes and walking

STICKS WERE POPULAR EVERYWHERE. THIS COLLECTION INCLUDED SOME FROM
SEVERAL CAMPS, MADE OF CHARACTERISTIC WOODS.

Oasis

The Colorado River Center in western Arizona, better known as Poston,
the name of the local post office, consisted of three units (sometimes rather
bitterly referred to as Poston, Roaston, and Toaston), with a total popula¬
tion of twenty thousand, the largest number of people in any single Re¬
location Center.

Here, as soon as the evacuees arrived, they began trying to improve
their living quarters and surroundings. Little by little, they relieved the
barrenness, increased their comforts, and improved facilities for recreation
and pleasure.

This bit of landscape, although not strictly in harmony with the best
Japanese traditions, did combine land and water in a pleasant balance,
and it became a popular spot in the new neighborhood.

And no wonder. “It is said that Indians once inhabited this land [of dust
and heat] but they died off one by one,” a Japanese resident wrote in a
letter after describing how phonograph records wilted in the heat and how
old people and babies were dying off. “Pray God, that you won’t be sent
to Poston.”

A reporter wrote for a camp publication, “So far this year the mercury
has hit only 112, but the old-time residents know that this temperature
won’t last forever. The summer months are still ahead.”

So, whether in the best classical tradition or not, this garden, which
served as an inland lake where the children could sail their boats, and
which brought the clouds and stars around their feet, must have been
gratefully regarded by many an Arizona evacuee.

[ 74 ]

Francis Stewart

36. AN EARLY BIT OF LANDSCAPE AT POSTON, ARIZONA

Almost immediately after arrival, the Japanese began figuring out ways

OF MAKING THEIR ENVIRONMENT MORE INTERESTING AND ATTRACTIVE, COMBINING
WATER AND LAND IN MINIATURE LANDSCAPES WHEREVER POSSIBLE.

[ 75 ]

Nature Plus Jackknife Work

People everywhere—especially country people—delight in discovering na¬
ture forms which remind them of something else—animals and birds in wood,
the head of an Indian in a piece of stone, images in the clouds. The nature-
loving Japanese in the War Relocation Centers discovered and treasured
hundreds of such forms.

In the case of natural figures in wood, there were two points of view
concerning their treatment and preservation—two schools of thought. The
first school would, as far as possible, preserve them in the natural unchanged
form, except for cutting away or removing carefully by hand any surplus or
dead wood, then work and polish the piece down to its hard parts—to the
bone, so to speak. This group patiently scoured their hunting grounds for
natures unblemished masterpieces, discarding specimens conscientiously
and ruthlessly. The bird forms on pages 91 and 163 are good examples of
this change-as-little-as-possible school.

The second school saw no good reason for not collaborating with nature
when nature was so kind as to present them with pieces which seemed to
dictate to clever fingers how to follow her lead. It was an irresistible chal¬
lenge to many, as in the case of the piece opposite, where the artist lent
an assisting hand and worked around the head and ears until the character
of the subject was brought out the way he felt it.

[ 76 ]

Jo Tanaka

37. WIND AND SAND SCULPTURE AT MINIDOKA

Excepting for the restrained carving of the head of this animal, and the

SQUARING OFF OF HIS FEET AND TAIL, HE IS PRESENTED EXACTLY AS
FOUND IN THE DESERT.

[ 77 ]

“Show Business”

There were active dramatic groups in several of the War Relocation
Centers, but, as with camp music, only the briefest reference can be made
to them here. The principal purpose for bringing in a few photographs is
to call attention to the resourcefulness, ingenuity, and artistry of the players
and their resident associates in making costumes, settings, and properties
for their stage plays.

What the Japanese theater people cannot do with paper and pamt in the
way of stage requisites and properties no one can do. Paper in some form—
often sculptured papier-m&che—provided most of the needs of the camps
for their dramatic productions, and only close wrong-side-out inspection
could have revealed the unglamorous, commonplace nature of the materials
used, most of which would ordinarily be consigned to the trash pile.

The Japanese armor costume shown in the photograph is a good example
of ingenuity and adaptation. Here, corrugated cardboard, laced together
with bright colored cords, is the material employed to simulate the tradi¬
tional metal and shining lacquer scales of armor. The red and gold helmet
is made of old straw hats to which a gilded paper dragon has been added.

These pieces were made at Rohwer, Arkansas, where, during the life
of the center, dramatics were prominently featured in the recreation, enter¬
tainment, and educational programs. This was due largely to the experience
and versatility of Mr. Fukami, formerly director of Engei Kai, a drama
organization in Stockton, California. Before coming to the United States,
Mr. Fukami had studied drama in Japan. He was conducting a sign shop in
Stockton when evacuation came.

[ 78 ]

Paul Farts

38. ARMOR FOR DRAMATICS AT ROHWER, ARKANSAS

Costumes and properties for plays were cleverly constructed from what¬
ever MATERIALS COULD BE FOUND AROUND CAMP; THIS GREEN-LACED TRADITIONAL
RED AND GOLD ARMOR IS MADE FROM CORRUGATED PAPER.

[ 79 ]

Footlight Glamour

The upper photograph here shows Mr. Fukami, director of the Rohwer
drama group, putting finishing touches on a setting for shibai. Shibai cor¬
responds to our pre-movie melodramas, in which the hero properly disposes
of the villain.

Other characteristic forms of Japanese theater are: kabuki, or popular
theater-performances run for six hours or more, with intermissions between
acts for meals in theater restaurants; the puppet shows—human interest
comedies, put on for the benefit of adults rather than children, and the re¬
nowned noh drama, the most aristocratic of all types, whose ornate, classical
language, according to S. Wainwright (Beauty in Japan) “. . . is comparable
in English to that of Chaucer's ‘Canterbury Tales/ "

In the popular dramas, propdHy men, dressed in black, trot busily all
over the stage while the play is in progress, arranging the actors' clothes,
illuminating their faces advantageously, slipping cushions under them, car¬
rying off props no longer needed. According to Japanese etiquette, they
are not supposed to be noticed, nor is the prompter, who sits on the stage
in plain sight.

The lower photograph opposite shows more of the versatile Mr. Fukami’s
handiwork. The boar's head mask is made of brown paper and has silver
tusks, a pink snout and brown leather ears. The human mask, also of papier-
mache, is painted a ghastly blue-green and is rolled out on the floor when
a beheading takes place.

The drum in the lower left-hand corner is a paper version of the tsuzumi,
or “long snare drum beaten with the hand"; drums—three varieties of them—
plus one flute always accompany the chanted recitations and rhythmic
dances of the noh plays. This music, though strange to Western ears, ap¬
peals nevertheless, because of its weird charm.

Many musical instruments were made in the camps. In addition to drums,
they made several samisen and koto, the most commonly used instruments
of the Japanese people. The samisen is a tinkling sort of guitar about the
size and shape of a spade; next in popularity, probably, is the koto, a six-
foot version of the zither or dulcimer. Some instruments were brought into
the camps with the first belongings, so there were musical evenings from
the beginning. One of the finest examples of craftsmanship completed in any
of the camps was a violin, a model of a Stradivarius in full size, which had
been started before evacuation.

[ 80 ]

Paul Farts

39. “SHOW BUSINESS" PROPERTIES AT ROHWER

Paper, paint, and wood built props and setting for a make-believe world

BEHIND FOOTLIGHTS AT THIS ARKANSAS CAMP.

[ 81 ]

Heaven, Earth and Man

Of hundreds of superb plant and flower arrangements observed in the
Relocation Centers, this arrangement of native juniper is one best remem¬
bered. To the Western eye, it appeared to be a natural green branch re¬
quiring no trimming, but ready to be placed in its receptacle just as found;
that is exactly the impression a skillful Japanese arranger creates, often
through the most painstaking trimming, bending and shaping.

Japanalia, the reference book to things Japanese, makes a statement
which seems to have been written for this juniper bough: “If a single plant,
flower, or branch is used, the main part pointing upward represents Heaven,
a twig on the right side bent sideways in the shape of a V denotes Man,
and the lowest twig or branch on the left signifies Earth.”

Mrs. Homma, a teacher of plant and flower arrangement at Heart Moun¬
tain, was the artist responsible for this arrangement, which she placed on a
shelf situated about four feet above the floor. Silhouetted against the light
wall background, the green of the foliage and the dark red-brown of the
branches seemed a perfect composition in form, color, and texture in the
small barracks apartment.

Mrs. Homma taught many of her neighbors, as well as classes of children,
how to arrange native Wyoming plants and garden flowers.

[ 82 ]

40. ARRANGEMENT OF WILD JUNIPER, HEART MOUNTAIN, WYOMING

The native plants and trees near the western Relocation Camps often

GAVE WONDERFUL OPPORTUNITIES FOR ORIGINAL PLANT AND FLOWER COMPOSI¬
TIONS, JUNIPERS BEING ONE FAVORITE.

[ 83 ]

‘The Bird Man”

H. Niva had come to this country expecting to become a painter. "Then,
when I heard music in America, I took up the violin.” The wartime evacua¬
tion program interrupted preparations for concert work and teaching. In
camp he became famous for another interest which had fascinated him from
childhood. “Im crazy a long time about birds,” he said, and as soon as we
were seated in his tiny room, he went to a pretty bird cage, which he ex¬
plained a neighbor had made for him from scraps of wood and metal; he
released a beautiful pair of Baltimore orioles.

One flew to a branch fastened to the wall near the window, the other to
his hand, while he told of his love for wild birds, especially, and the pleasure
of taming and caring for them.

This pair he had found about a year and a half before, during a walk at
the base of Drum Mountain, about sixteen miles from camp; they were only
two or three days old then. "It is molting-time now, and they do not look
their best” . . . but they seemed to us to be in perfect condition, and
satisfied in their manmade abode.

"They like cake,” he said, and took some from a box; both birds flew to
his shoulders and one took crumbs from his mouth. He explained that too
much cake was not good for anybody, of course, and that it required quite
some time to find the worms and catch the insects the birds liked best. But
the children in the block were willing hunters, and some of them quite
expert.

In another block at Topaz, we came across a tame bird that seemed to
belong to all the children of that section—a sparrow sitting on the railing at
a barracks entrance; when we did not respond to its chirps for food, it flew
down the street to some children who seemed likelier prospects.

In this and other camps, apparently in unrelated places, one would come
unexpectedly upon small holes in the ground which formed pools after rain¬
fall; if rains were delayed so that they dried up, children would fill them
again, apparently for the pleasure gained in seeing reflections of sky and
clouds, branches or grasses mirrored in their surface.

[ 84 ]

E. W. Conrad

41. A VIOLINIST TAMED WILD BIRDS AT TOPAZ, UTAH

These wild birds had the run of this musician’s cubicle at Topaz; every

CHILD IN THE BLOCK KNEW AND LOVED THEM.

Once upon a Timet

“People go crazy about my painted stones,” said A. Takamura in his
simple straightforward way about his scores of miniature figures, which
certainly no longer resembled stones. Ranging in size from as tiny as your
little fingernail to perhaps two inches high, each one had been spied out
with some particular role in mind. They represented characters to Mr.
Takamura—usually characters from Japanese folk tales—which he would
paint in oils, then group together in simple settings to illustrate episodes
and scenes which they suggested.

The illustration opposite will give a fair idea of the form of these tiny
sets, but little of their interest and charm of color. One need not have
knowledge of the folk tales to enjoy them—usually the titles bring them to
life; to those familiar with them, the scenes, of course, make an immediate
appeal. To the children these painted stones were enchanting.

A few of the more descriptive titles are as follows: “Don't Talk Too
Much,” “Around the Well,” “Live Long until Gray Hair,” “Don't Spend
Money on Geisha Girls,” “Leaving Home,” and “Radio Family.”

Since coming to camp, Mr. Takamura had developed his skill in painting
considerably, and he was also one of the enthusiastic collectors of the
nature-carved wood forms so prevalent in the Minidoka countryside.

Probably his favorite of these was his sagebrush eagle flying with a snake;
two objects which had been found in different places, but fitted together so
perfectly that one would have thought them from the same plant. He had
also found a Chinese dog, a coyote, and quite a perfect snail. Hunting for
these wood forms was an important diversion to him—good ones were not
to be found every day; but when he found a gravel bed, then the charac¬
ters which “came out at him” were almost too numerous to keep up with.

[ 86 ]

Jo Tanaka

42. JAPANESE FOLK TALES IN STONES AT MINIDOKA, IDAHO

An amateur painter collected small, specially shaped stones half an inch

TO TWO OR THREE INCHES TALL, WHICH SUGGESTED FOLK TALE CHARACTERS TO HIS
CREATIVE IMAGINATION; THESE HE PAINTED AND ARRANGED IN MINIATURE SCENES,
FOR THE ENJOYMENT OF BOTH SMALL AND GROWN-UP CHILDREN.

[ 87 ]

#

Branches and Bon-kei

Nothing could be more characteristic of an arts and crafts exhibit of the
Japanese than this arrangement of growing plants and bon-kei at one of the
first Amache exhibitions in 1943.

The containers for the growing plants were built up from sticks and
scraps left over from the building of the barracks, and from pieces of wooden
packing cases and crates in which food and other necessities had been
shipped in.

The tray landscapes, bon-kei, especially characteristic of this center, were
among the earlier artifacts displayed, and in this case too the trays were
made for the purpose from scrap material. As time passed, residents of the
camps were able to get some of their belongings of this kind out of storage,
and plant and flower containers were sent in as gifts, so in later photographs
much greater variety is noticeable.

This photograph was one of the first intimations of the great outpouring
of beautiful handwork that would soon be issuing from the camps.

One can hardly emphasize the fact too often, that when the evacuees
arrived at these camps, only the barest of bare essentials were provided for
them. So, when the great yearning for some beauty began to search for
ways and means of expression, those ways and means had to be provided
by nature or by discarded products, or both. At first, even tools had to be
made from discards—but they made them.

[ 88 ]

Pal Coffey

43. BON-KEI AND GROWING PLANT ARRANGEMENT AT AMACHE,

COLORADO

Bon-kei (tray landscapes) were developed especially at Amache. With

THESE, SHRUBS IN TRADITIONAL ARRANGEMENTS ARE SHOWN AT A
CAMP ART EXHIBITION.

[ 89 ]

Desert Finds and Dwarfed Trees

Sometimes it seemed as though the Japanese could draw treasure out of
any spot of ground he came across—in the desert, on the mountain, or in
his barracks yard. One day a resident of Minidoka, walking in the desert,
spied a loose piece of old sagebrush; he picked it up to see what might be
imprisoned there, and so was released a beautiful flying bird.

How the gnarled sagebrush and other wild plants were utilized and beau¬
tified in the camps is pictured in these pages. Nature lovers made use of
desert plants probably never before thought of as having decorative possi¬
bilities, and their experiences make a fascinating story.

One Topaz resident, Mr. I. Ishii, was an expert in dwarfing trees. He missed
especially a thirty-five-year-old maple which he had developed from a seed
and had been compelled to leave behind; it was a perfect tree, and was most
beautiful in autumn when the foliage turned to gold and yellow. There was
too much sun in the desert for dwarfed trees, but he began experimenting
with desert plants and soon found that the common greasewood responded
satisfactorily. At the time of relocation in 1945, a greasewood shrub had
been coaxed along for two years into very attractive form; it would be
interesting to know if it is still flourishing.

“The dwarf tree is not a toy, it is an instrument of contemplation,” says
Laurence Binyon in The Spirit of Man in Asian Art.

But the intention behind them is the same as that behind the garden.

It is not a forcing of nature into an unnatural smallness; at least, that
is not the point. Just as a man strolling in his garden may imagine him¬
self among streams and great mountains, so, sitting in his room beside
a dwarf pine tree and retiring into his own inner mind, he may by
intensity of contemplation become himself small as a midget while the
tree dilates and towers, and soon he is transformed to the solitude of
the forest where the great branches extend far overhead and murmur
in the wind.

[ 90 ]

Jo Tanaka

44. FLIGHT IN THE DESERT; MINIDOKA

Nothing has been done to this nature-sculptured bird, except to remove

SURPLUS SOFT WOOD AND HAND-RUB THE SOLID REMAINDER. ONE RESIDENT COL¬
LECTED SUCH FORMS FOR GOING-AWAY PRESENTS FOR HIS FRIENDS.

Mr. Kogita’s Garden

Here are two views of one of the most original of all the gardens constructed
in the Relocation Camps. It was designed and built by Y. Kogita of Block 5
in Minidoka.

Rocks of volcanic origin—indigenous to this region—lava and other stones
furnish the foundation material. Some of these were brought in from as far
away as two miles; all were used just as found. For the hauling, Mr. Kogita
built a platform handcart similar to the Gila River cart (page 31), but with¬
out the rack. Wheels were similarly constructed of laminated scrap wood,
axles and hubs of water pipes.

The garden was situated where it was possible to take advantage of over¬
flow supplies of water from the community laundry and bathhouse, so the
designer added a fountain and two fish ponds. Laundries and bathhouses
everywhere were utilized in this manner, the water being distributed just
about as desired with rubber hose.

The plants, as well as the rocks here are native to the region, perennials
having been transplanted, and annuals grown from seed. Represented also
were cattails, willows and sagebrush. Mr. Kogita was especially proud of his
towering sunflower plant, which he explained came as a complete surprise
to him; the seed might have been left by some bird, he thought, and taken
root without his knowledge, and now on this day in early September, it had
between seventy and a hundred flowers.

Another view of this garden appears on the next page.

[ 92 ]

Jo Tanaka

45. ROCK GARDEN AT MINIDOKA, IDAHO

The volcanic rocks and all the plants are local, and so are the fish in

THE SMALL PONDS, WHICH CAME FROM BROOKS A FEW MILES AWAY.

[ 93 ]

Symbol of Persistence

This chimney rock is a part of the garden shown in the previous photograph,
being situated immediately to the left of the scene. Like all the stones used
for this garden, it is of volcanic formation; but this was the giant of them all,
weighing about a thousand pounds; other rocks weighed from one hundred
to several hundred pounds.

Mr. Kogita s young sons, twelve and thirteen years old, gave him a help¬
ing hand with the heavy pieces. A brief description of the cart used is given
on page 92. To keep the wheels from sinking in the sand, Mr. Kogita cut up
oilcans and nailed wide strips of tin all around. It took him about two months
to get the rocks in for the main garden, and an entire week to loosen and
separate the large rock from its bed. Fortunately, he owned a crowbar.
After he had dug it out, he discovered that the large rock had a hole run¬
ning through it from top to bottom, so he called it “Stove-pipe Rock.” It
was all very rough work, but most people think the result was worth it.

While they do not show very clearly in the previous picture, there are
two stone-lined pools divided by a little bridge. They were built to en¬
courage the growth of transplanted native water plants; fresh-water fish
from a near-by stream swim about in them.

[ 94 ]

Jo Tanaka

46. DETAIL OF MINIDOKA ROCK GARDEN

This large chimney rock, weighing about one thousand pounds, was trans¬
ported FROM THE DESERT ON A PLATFORM CART MADE FOR THE PURPOSE; IT TOOK A
WEEK FOR THE INDEFATIGABLE GARDENER TO SEPARATE THE ROCK FROM
ITS NATURAL BED.

[95]

Appreciation

What the opportunity to do creative work meant to the Japanese during the
period of evacuation and relocation can be sensed by one who runs through
these illustrations. But a word should be said of what this work, when shown
in exhibitions, meant to those who viewed them: to the evacuees, to the
members of the administrative staff, and to visitors to the camps from near-by
places.

Long before the ten Relocation Centers could be made ready to receive
the evacuees, they were taken from their homes and working places and
sent to fifteen preliminary assembly centers, usually fairgrounds or race
tracks. During this stage—perhaps the most confusing, uncertain, and trying
of the entire removal period—some of the Japanese turned at once to the
arts in their broad sense, to the creating of objects and surroundings of
beauty so that they might be helped to bear with reason, grace, and dignity,
the situation into which they had been thrust by forces beyond their control.

Enough credit can never be given to the artists, the teachers, and others
who, when voluntary evacuation was halted by the government and all
persons of Japanese ancestry were taken to the fifteen temporary reception
centers, began to encourage their companions and new associates to turn
to creative work of their own choice; and who set the first examples by
doing so themselves.

It was in these first temporary camps that the seeds were planted by the
Japanese themselves, which later flowered in the arts and crafts exhibitions
that contributed so much to the life, the culture, and the morale of the
Relocation Centers. These exhibitions were held, not in just one or two
special centers, but in every one of the ten; and in each, of course, the great
majority of visitors were the evacuees themselves.

[ 90 ]

Pat Coffey

47. VISITORS AT AN ART EXHIBITION AT AMACHE, COLORADO

The attendance of camp residents at the Arts and Crafts Festival in
Amache was proof of what these events meant to the evacuees. This exhi¬
bition was sponsored by the Educational Division of WRA and the Pioneer ,

THE CENTER NEWSPAPER. EXHIBITIONS OF THE ARTS OF THE JAPANESE WERE HELD
IN EVERY CAMP, ALWAYS WITH LARGE NUMBERS ATTENDING.

[ 97 ]

A Gift from the Forest

This sturdy, yet spirited steed was a great favorite with the children at
Rohwer, where an abundance of trees cut down to make way for roads and
barracks construction placed within the reach of the woodcutters just the
materials they needed for community playgrounds or smaller open spaces.

In all the camps were evidences of the love and thoughtfulness of elders
for their children, not only from parents, big brothers and sisters, but from
the many who became, through these new and trying circumstances, aunts
and uncles by adoption. Everywhere, the spirit seemed to be, “We must not
fail the children.”

So, whenever there was an opportunity for a miniature lake, a gazing
pool, a sand mountain, a whirligig, or any other contrivance for the children,
there were plenty of willing hands to see it through.

[ 98 ]

Paul Farts

48. A HOBBYHORSE FOR THE CHILDREN AT ROHWER
At Rohwer and Jerome, many trees were cut down to clear space for

STREETS AND BARRACKS; TRUNKS AND LIMBS WERE OFTEN TURNED INTO STURDY
PLAYTHINGS FOR THE CHILDREN.

[ 99 ]

Fire and Smoke

When Mr. S. Imura was musing over the odd sizes, shapes, and knotholes
in the fuel pile at Heart Mountain, he began to wonder what special use
he might make of them.

His invention for decorating the pieces was as simple as it was original.
With scissors he cut decorative patterns out of newspaper, and pasted them
to the boards. He then held the boards over an open flame, manipulating
them so that at no time would the paper catch fire, but the entire surface
would take on the gradations of brown from the dark smoke and the light
flame. After the boards had cooled, he peeled off the paper, leaving the
pattern to show in the original board color. He arranged many of them in a
kind of ornamental frieze around the walls of the barracks room which he
and his wife occupied.

The visit to the Imuras was made only a few weeks before they were
scheduled to leave camp, presumably to return to their former home in
Alameda, where they had a large house filled with many antiques and
valuable art works of Japan. Photographs of some of these were shown to the
writer, who suggested, “Soon you will be home again with your treasures.”
“No,” Mr. Imura answered, “it may be some time yet.” Then he explained
that ten families were occupying his house and that he could not think of
displacing them. He would have to find another place, he said, where he
and his wife could live until these people had a chance to relocate them*
selves; he could have no pleasure in it otherwise.

Always on the lookout for nature forms that could be put to practical use,
a resident from Rohwer found a beautifully twisted poker and a handle for
this oilcan fire shovel.

[ 100 ]

49. PYROGRAPHY FROM HEART MOUNTAIN; FIRE TOOLS FROM

ROHWER

Newspaper, scissors, a board, and some smoke produced the wall decora¬
tions (photo H. Sturm); scrap tin and nature-carved wood made shovel and
poker (photo Paul Faris); human ingenuity and originality inspired both

groups.

[ 101 ]

"The Third of the Third Moon”

The Girls' Day Doll Festival stands out among the children's days celebrated
by residents of the Relocation Centers. The ancient customs connected with
it were probably observed in every camp on March 3, ‘‘the third of the third
moon," bringing to the households beautifully dressed doll figures arranged
in prescribed order, the gold screen background, the lanterns, the peach
blossoms (it is also called “The Peach Blossom Festival”), the rice cakes in
toy dishes, and the scrolls of family history.

Mrs. Sagawa, who prepared this scene for Girls* Day, learned how to make
dolls at Rohwer; in Los Angeles, she had been a dressmaker. Because of
wartime restrictions, she was unable to obtain silk for the traditional wedding
costume for the Emperor and Empress, but she substituted crepe paper,
which proved very effective against the gold screen.

Frederic de Garis in a “Believe It or Not*' page of We Japanese describes
an annual memorial service held at a Tokyo Primary School for dolls that
have been broken and damaged beyond repair:

The dolls are buried in the playground of the school, their grave
being marked by a stone about 2 ft. high, inscribed “Grave of Dolls."
Since the service was started in 1918 several hundred broken dolls have
been buried there. The ceremony is always largely attended by school
children and their mothers. Priests chant the sutra intended to compose
the soul of the dead.

Although the customs of the Japanese concerning their children and their
children's festival days change gradually with time and circumstances, as do
the customs of all people, the mutual relationship of parents and children
remain unchanged. This relationship is well described by Laurence Oliphant:

Upon no occasion, though children were numerous, did I ever see a
child struck or otherwise maltreated. The obedience and reverence
manifested by children towards their parents is unbounded; while the
confidence placed by parents in their children is represented to be
without limit. Parents select their children to be arbitrators in their
disputes with others, and submit implicitly to their decisions.

An instance of warm mutual understanding between old and young in
Japan is related on page 132.

[ 102 ]

Paul Farts

50. CEREMONIAL DOLLS FOR GIRLS’ DAY, MARCH 3, AT
ROHWER, ARKANSAS

Most highly prized of Japanese dolls are Emperor and Empress figures
(Daira-sama). Festival dolls are brought out only once a year, then care¬
fully PACKED AWAY UNTIL NEXT TIME.

[ 103 ]

“Star and Crescent” Cabinet

This unusual, though characteristically Japanese cabinet is one of the pieces
fashioned by a resident who had always wanted to work in wood, but had
never before had the opportunity. Tools were not available to him, so he
made his own from saws, automobile springs, worn-out files, and other dis¬
carded metals.

His first inclination was to do something in the American tradition, but
his material was red elm, an untraditional wood, but with an interesting
and pronounced grain; so it seemed, upon reflection, to call for a special,
more unusual treatment. The cabinet shown here, which he designed and
built, has some features characteristically Japanese, but it is unique and
original too. One of the very interesting details is the star and crescent
moon motif. When asked about it, the craftsman said it was a reminder of
an evening at Rohwer when every resident was out watching the sky. One
August night in 1944, a shining star came almost within the crescent of the
new moon, closer than it had been for sixty years, or would be again for
another sixty years. The many who saw it would never forget it, and only a
few little children would ever behold the beautiful sight again.

It was a reminder to the writer of the only other instance of which he ever
knew when this rare heavenly sight had been recorded in American handi¬
crafts. This was a piecework quilt done by a Southern Highlands woman
soon after the star was seen approaching the crescent in the Tennessee
mountains in 1884.

[ 104 ]

51. FURNITURE AT ROHWER, SOUTHEASTERN ARKANSAS

This typically Japanese, though original, cabinet was made by a man who

CAME FROM KOREA. He FOUND IN RED ELM, CUT BY THE CAMP SAWMILL, THE
MATERIAL HE WANTED FOR HIS AMATEUR FURNITURE WORK.

[ 105 ]

Tree Treasure

The popularity of kobus, those interesting natural growths of wood, is
referred to often here, pages 10, 32, and 114. They are often sufficiently in¬
teresting in their form and texture to serve as ornaments without having any
other use.

But sometimes a hollow kobu would be found, and this was an exciting
event around camp, for they are quite rare. After being stripped of surplus
covering, it might serve as a flower vase, a receptacle for paint brushes, or,
if particularly beautiful, purely as a decoration; it was always an interesting
speculation to see what finally would be revealed.

Sometimes—as here—a bit of carving would be done on the piece to en¬
hance its natural attractiveness, or add an Oriental touch, the design falling
in pleasantly with whatever bumps, hollows, or lines nature provided.

If one wished a wooden receptacle in a hurry, it would be easy to cut a
solid section of a small tree or limb and hollow it out; but that would not
compare in satisfaction to finding a piece which nature, taking plenty
of time in her own way, had prepared for this purpose.

[ 106 ]

52. KOBU VASE WITH RESTRAINED DECORATION

Once in a long time a kobu hunter will find a hollow piece of wood just

RIGHT TO SERVE AS A FLOWER CONTAINER OR EVEN AS A DECORATIVE PIECE WITHOUT
SPECIAL UTILITY. THEN THE QUESTION COMES-SHALL IT BE LEFT PLAIN AS IT IS, OR
DOES IT DESERVE A LITTLE ORNAMENTATION? THE AMATEUR REGISTERED HIS FEEL¬
ING IN FAVOR OF A RESTRAINED SURFACE CARVING.

[107]

New Ways with Our Wild Plants

This unfamiliar treatment of one of our most familiar plants, the cattail, is
typical of many blendings of Orient and Occident which brought pleasure at
the camp exhibitions.

To the volumes already in existence describing more than one hundred
schools of Japanese flower arrangement, a new one could now be added
limited to American plants and flowers which the Japanese found growing
wild in the vicinity of the ten Relocation Centers. A few of these, of course,
were native to Japan too, but most were not; hence there were hundreds of
instances where traditional principles of composition were applied to native
American plants, creating new forms of beauty.

An explanation for such enthusiasm for plants which we too often overlook
is made by Frank Brinkley, who wrote an authoritative eight-volume history
about Japan: “The Japanese consider that the beauty of a plant or a tree is
not derived from its blossoms more than from the manner of its growth. The
curve of a bough, the bend of a stalk, has for him a charm equal to that
presented by the shape of the petal and the tint of the blossom.”

[ 108 ]

Paul Paris

53. ARRANGEMENT OF CATTAILS

Cattails, gathered fifteen miles from Rohwer Center, arranged by an

AMATEUR IN A WOODEN TRAY (suibdTl), MADE OF PACKING CRATE WOOD AND PAINTED

LIGHT GREEN INSIDE.

[ 109 ]

Reward for a Verse Maker

Every War Relocation Center had its poetry societies with contests some¬
times extending to other camps. The decorated wooden panel shown here
was made for a prize winner from Minidoka, Idaho, where it was photo¬
graphed. The panel is thought to have been mac^e at Tule Lake, California,
because of the shells used to represent plum blossoms. The poem may be in
the handwriting of the verse maker, but is more likely to have been done
by a camp calligrapher, as his contribution to the poetry award. In the
foreground, resting on a branch, is a small warbler, carved from wood and
painted green.

The poem is written in the seventeen-syllable three-line form (hokku)
most frequently used in camp verse competitions. It is a record of a sub¬
jective experience of the poet who, after an absence, comes back to find
everyone away. Roughly translated, it reads: “I came back. I sat alone in a
detached room in the autumn dusk.”

Another favorite poetry form in the camps was the tanka , a five-line verse,
containing in order five, seven, five, seven, and seven syllables.

"At some remote date,” writes one author, "a Japanese maker of songs
seems to have discovered that a peculiar and very fascinating rhythm is
produced by lines containing five syllables and seven syllables alternately.”
(From History of the Japanese People , Brinkley and Kikuchi.)

It is difficult for us Westerners to understand how deeply ingrained poetry
is in the lives of the Japanese. Brinkley said that at one time it came near to
being a test of fitness for office, that the situation was comparable to the
President of the United States giving a reception to civil and military offi¬
cials, passing around pens and paper and inviting them to spend several
hours composing verses on themes set by him, the pastime repeated ". . . day
after day, until the construction of the couplets became an engrossing
national occupation.”

There was nothing effeminate about the practice; at one time, poetry
writing and football were the two highest achievements that Japanese noble¬
men could aspire to, and were called "the two ways.”

[ 110 ]

Jo Tanaka

54. PANEL FOR POETRY PRIZE, TULE LAKE, CALIFORNIA

Every camp had its poetry societies and contests; this panel of plum blos¬
soms (shells) and bird (carved wood) was designed as a setting for a

prize-winning poem.

[Ill]

Remembrance of Ancient Days

This small room, beautiful in its simplicity, was built by the Japanese in one
of the tar-paper shacks at Tule Lake, and set aside for the teaching of the
tea ceremony, which, from its ancient beginnings has served to promote and
to maintain mental composure.

That these uprooted people, during their period of internment, turned to
their beloved cultural rite is one of the most touching instances in any camp,
of their deep desire to make the best of a harsh, confusing, and undeserved
situation, and to co-operate in every way possible to improve it.

Tule Lake was the center to which practically all evacuees who had
proved troublesome, who had been under guard, or under suspicion, were
sent; and it was here also that the barbed-wire enclosures were retained
longer than in the other camps. But it was here, too, that the Japanese
brought to the situation their high concept of meeting and enduring it.
During the period of detention tea ceremony classes were conducted, as
well as classes in good manners, flower arrangement and other branches of
the peoples' arts conducive to thoughtfulness, calmness, dignity, and beauty.

It is probably difficult for the casual Westerner to appreciate the tea
ceremony with its many unfamiliar formalities. But perhaps the most authori¬
tative and illuminating work on the subject for one seeking information is
Okakura’s The Book of Tea. He says “. . . Cha-no-yu, the Rites of Tea, is
little less than fine art applied to life. Anyone well versed in the code of tea
ceremonial should be able to govern his deportment on all occasions with
the ease, the dignity, and the grace essential for the refinements of life.”

In his book, We Japanese , Frederic de Garis says:

In the mere handling of the utensils employed there must be the
utmost exactness, and not a single error must occur in the performance
of the function itself. It is declared by its devotees that the accurate and
delicate performance of each act teaches precision, poise and tran¬
quility, courtesy, sincerity, unselfishness and daintiness, and produces
harmony in every sense.

The little tearoom at Tule Lake will always be to those who remember it
a symbol of the never-ending quest of the dispossessed Japanese to experi¬
ence beauty in their everyday existence, and to strive to find ways of
perfection in an imperfect world.

[ 112 ]

Robert H. Ross

55. TEACHING TEA CEREMONY (CHA-NO-YU) AT TULE LAKE

The tea ceremony classes were conducted in order to help these uprooted

PEOPLE MAINTAIN DIGNITY AND POISE WHILE MEETING DIFFICULT PROBLEMS.

Upper picture shows starting of the fire with charcoal -sumitemae; lower,

A SCENE IN THE ADVANCED TEA CEREMONY CLASS.

[ 113 ]

Honey Locust and Ironwood

Probably no people have ever developed a greater sensitivity to wood than
the Japanese. They have the deepest interest in the natural forms of growth,
and a fine understanding of how the natural forms can be adapted to
objects of use and beauty. The experience of evacuation and relocation gave
many persons their first vital contacts with wood.

This kobu is from a honey locust tree at the War Relocation Camp at
Rohwer, Arkansas. The peculiar and attractive oyster-shell-like form of this
growth would alone have interested any kobu hunter, but the rare lemon-
yellow color on the inside of the shell gave it a special beauty which set it
apart from all other specimens. A cross section of the trunk or a large limb
of a locust tree will often reveal this strata of color, but to find the color
transferred or carried into a kobu form is quite extraordinary; it was prob¬
ably not discovered until the specimen was cleared of old and surplus soft
wood.

The ironwood box was made from probably the hardest wood that grows
in North America. It is so hard that in its native region, the southwestern
area of the United States, builders, carpenters, and cabinetmakers do not
often risk dulling or breaking their tools on it—they leave it alone. But to the
Japanese craftsmen it was a challenge. With admiration and respect for the
resisting qualities and the beautiful grain and structure of the wood, he
would sit down and study the piece, and finally work out in his mind the
form he thought it should take. Then with infinite patience, he would go to
work, quite often using tools of his own making. The result would be a
piece of cabinet work that most craftsmen would consider impossible to
achieve. One truly intrepid camp craftsman went so far as to try sculpture
in this adamant material and he produced a very creditable likeness of a
stealthy jaguar stalking its prey.

The jewelry shown with the ironwood box was made at Topaz, Utah.

[ 114 ]

56. NATURE AND ART IN WOOD FROM ARKANSAS AND ARIZONA
This kobu from a honey locust tree at Rohwer is unchanged, except after

REMOVAL OF SURPLUS SOFT WOOD; IT HAS BEEN HAND-POLISHED UNTIL THE LEMON-

COLORED LINING SHINES. Paul Fans

The neatly joined and highly polished box from Gila River is of ironwood,

WHICH WAS TOO HARD FOR ORDINARY SAWS, SO IT WAS LABORIOUSLY CUT

WITH SPECIAL BLADES, SOMETIMES WITH ABRASIVES. John D . Si biff

Inheritance

This fine small tray composition of artificial plum blossoms and pine, by an
unknown resident of Tule Lake is a symbol of many, indeed of most, of the
creations shown in these pages. The most surprising fact about this extraordi¬
nary outpouring of appropriate objects of good taste—and many of them
beautiful—is that the great majority of objects were made by unschooled
persons who had never before done work of this kind.

How to account for this unprecedented flowering of the arts under cir¬
cumstances which seemed least conducive, and through people from all
walks of life, whose former work and employment—almost without excep¬
tion—was in no way related to the things which they here did so well? That
is a question which most everyone asks, but it is not an easy question to
answer. It does deserve thought and study.

Part of the answer seems to be that the unprecedented situation gave
many a person who had long—consciously or unconsciously—yearned to
make some beautiful thing, the time in which to do it. For instance, as previ¬
ously noted, one Japanese woman whose exquisite needlework was rated the
highest in a large class in embroidery, had never before, during her hard
years at truck gardening, had the opportunity or the leisure time to attempt
such work.

But the combination of time and opportunity is only a partial explana¬
tion, because back of that had to be the incentive, the impelling force and
the urge to good taste, which, in this case, was felt by hundreds of people
in each camp and by many thousands altogether.

Perhaps the truest explanation of this turning to the arts, to the creation
of beauty in a time of crisis, is that the arts in their broad sense have always
been an inseparable part of Japanese life and culture. The innate recogni¬
tion of the fitting thing, the beautiful thing—even in the simplest circum¬
stances of life—is a basic principle; it is in reality a religion. And when the
opportunity came to put that principle into action, they were prepared by
experience and tradition and feeling to do it. And they did do it.

[ 116 ]

Robert H. Ron

57. “PLUM BLOSSOMS AND PINE”-TULE LAKE, CALIFORNIA

When this symbolic artificial flower piece was discovered and photo¬
graphed, THE PHOTOGRAPHER SEARCHED A LONG TIME FOR THE ARTIST. He
REPORTED AT LAST, “I COULD NOT FIND WHO MADE THE LOVELY THING. ‘SOME OLD
WOMAN/ IS ALL I COULD FIND OUT.”

[ 117 ]

Fabulous Tradition

One of the finest examples of needlework design and execution to come
out of any of the camps is this magpie and grape composition photographed
at Manzanar, California, and presumably made there. The magpie appears
in many parts of the world—Europe, Africa, Asia. The one found in western
North America is scientifically classed as a subspecies, but is nonetheless
beautiful for that and was included in embroidery motifs, paintings, and
handicrafts in several camps.

Embroidery is one of the crafts in which the Japanese for centuries have
held unrivaled and undisputed supremacy, over all of the world. “There
may be two opinions about Japanese painting, but there can be only one
about Japanese embroidery,” said Professor Chamberlain in Things Japanese ,
who advised all travelers to visit the famous embroidery shops, but to “take
plenty of money,” because they rightfully were plenty expensive.

So many volumes have been written in praise of the quality of Japanese
embroideries that as we contemplate the great flowering of this art in the
War Relocation Camps of our country two other brief quotations may be
allowed.

In Jinriksha Days , K. Scidmore writes: “. . . They can simulate the hair
and fur of animals, the plumage of birds, the hard scales of fishes and
dragons, the bloom on fruit, the dew on flowers . . . the clear reflection of
lacquer, the glaze of porcelains and the patina of bronzes in a way impos¬
sible to any but the Japanese hand and needle. . . .”

Audsley, in his Ornamental Arts of Japan , says:

Some dresses were covered with complete landscapes, in which rock,
waterfalls, trees, flowers, human figures, animals and birds, were de¬
picted with wonderful skill and decorative effect. . . . Others again,
were embroidered with flights of cranes and wild geese, masses of
flowers and countless insects, or with such startling objects as octopus,
crawfish, tortoises, gigantic spiders . . . and demons. Robes entirely
covered with snow scenes, moonlit pictures, sunset effects and rain
storms, were frequently worn on the stage. Of the colours and gorgeous
contrasts of these costumes it is impossible to give a clear description. .. .

New themes were worked into the embroideries of those who dwelt for
a time in our War Relocation Camps, for like the painters, the needleworkers
often recorded life around them. The symbolical frontispiece of this volume
is an excellent example of this new and effective use of a very old and
beautiful art to communicate thoughts and experiences through the ancient
and expressive medium of embroidery.

[ 118 ]

58. EMBROIDERY FROM M.

FINE EXAMPLE OF EMBOIDERY
THIS DESIGN

Pinched Paper and Glue

Tsumani, one of the little arts of Japan, was practiced early in several of
the camps, probably because something decorative could be made with the
simplest equipment and commonest material at minimum expense, plus the
fact that it was a skill not too difficult to learn.

In Japan, a good quality silk is used for tsumami. But silk, of course, was
not available in the camps, or anywhere else in our country, during the war,
so the tsumami workers used paper, usually crepe paper, instead; and the
common name for the slightly revised craft came to be known in the camps,
as “picture making with pinched paper/*

The art of tsumami as Mrs. Tsubouchi of Rohwer is demonstrating to her
daughter in the photograph was practiced pretty much as follows: a rigid
piece of cardboard or wood was used as a background or base; upon this the
design was drawn, then the many colorful pieces of paper would be stiffened
with starch or glue, applied with an adhesive—sometimes store-bought,
sometimes kitchen-made—and crushed and pinched as desired. Being very
lightweight, the pieces would adhere well to the background and thus be
fairly durable.

Mrs. Tsubouchi made the discovery at Rohwer, that crepe paper was a
satisfactory substitute for silk, and taught her pupils how to utilize it. In the
photograph she is using crepe paper, which was almost always available,
but when it was not, pieces of newspaper were soaked, dipped into the dye
pots and inched into shape with quite satisfactory results. The art of
tsumami , therefore, because of its all-around simplicity, its economy, and
elasticity, came to be one of the most welcome means of decorating in the
Relocation Camps.

[ 120 ]

59. MAKING A TSUMAMl PICTURE AT ROHWER, ARKANSAS

In this interesting form of Japanese art, small details, such as the

FEATHERS IN THIS DESIGN, ARE MADE OF SILK WHICH IS DIPPED IN PASTE, APPLIED,
AND PRESSED ON THE CARDBOARD BACKGROUND. As SILK WAS NOT OBTAINABLE, MRS.
TSUBOUCHI SUBSTITUTED CREPE PAPER WITH QUITE SATISFACTORY RESULTS.

Dance for Liberated Spirits

Those who saw or took part in the Buddhist Bon Odori Festival under the
Colorado desert sky will long remember it. One evening in the summer of
1943, over one thousand dancers of Amache, most of them dressed in
Japanese costume, came together after supper, and to the Oriental rhythms
of flutes, drums, and singing, carried the festival far into the night.

The Bon Odori is usually held as a part of O-Bon, Feast of Lanterns, a
memorial festival, which, in many parts of the ancestral country is cele¬
brated for three days and nights. On the first day, the people gather in the
cemeteries, where they put family graves in order, burn incense, then, as
darkness falls, hang white paper lanterns on the graves and invite the spirits
of their loved ones to return to earth and visit their old homes once more.
They escort them there, guiding them by the light of lanterns to protect
them from stumbling over stones and rough places in the road, carrying on
affectionate conversations with them meanwhile. During the next two days
the spirits are honored guests in the homes, and are offered every comfort
and consideration.

On the third evening of the festival, communities meet to participate in
the religious folk dance—Bon Odori (Bon Dance), or Dance of Rejoicing
for liberated spirits. After the festivities are over, the spirits are again
escorted back to their grave-homes. Farewell fires at house fronts serve as
beacons along the return route, and often spectacular bonfires are burned
high on hill tops and mountainsides, by way of bidding them farewell.

[ 122 ]

Joe McClelland

60. BON ODORI DANCERS GATHER FOR BUDDHIST FESTIVAL

More than one thousand Am ache, Colorado, dancers participated in this

MEMORIAL FESTIVAL HELD AT NIGHT UNDER THE DESERT SKY.

Bon Odori

Here are three young dancers—a detail of the Bon Odori Dance Festival
held under the auspices of the Buddhist Church at Amache Relocation
Camp, as shown in the previous illustration.

Bon-Odori, a primitive community religious folk dance, and held in the
summer to honor the dead, is, as Mr. de Garis says, “The Dance of Rejoicing
for the Souls that have been liberated from their sufferings in the Buddhist
Hells into a state of celestial bliss.” (From We Japanese.)

It is essentially a rhythmic posture dance, in which the participants form
a circle and dance with expressionless faces to the music of flutes, drums,
and singing. Swaying, posturing in unison, they gesture with the arms, clap
their hands, and stamp their feet to the rhythm, which changes with suc¬
ceeding numbers, and festivities continue far into the night.

The costumes worn are often gorgeous in color and design—the girls
usually carry fans tucked into their sashes, which they use freely during
intermissions and often as part of the dance gestures. Although O-Bon is
performed in memory of the dead and no emotion is shown in the faces, the
character of the dances is entirely joyful; even comic and rustic elements are
brought into some of the numbers.

Roughly classified, Japanese dancing can be divided into three general
types:

(1) Mai—classical dancing, usually performed by professionals, and
likened to the “graceful movements of the crane at dawn.”

(2) Odori —the popular dance of the people. “It means the spontaneous
expression of joy with gesture of hands and feet common to all people.”

(3) Furi, or Shosa —the dramatic dance, woven into the action of noh
plays and other forms of drama.

The popular form with which we are most concerned here, may be
learned in a very short time; at a recently observed Buddhist Bon Odori
Festival in New York City, the announcer at the loud-speaker several times
invited the fascinated spectators to join the dancers in the roped-off section
of the street, and many of them did.

[ 124 ]

V

Joe McClelland

61. THREE YOUNG DANCERS, AMACHE, COLORADO

Detail from the Buddhist Church Festival given at night at Granada,

in August, 1943.

[ 125 ]

For a Buddhist Household

This Buddhist household temple, hand-carved and hand-joined, was made
for one of the Arkansas barracks homes. It was not constructed of waste
materials, as were most of the objects shown in these illustrations, but of
carefully selected wood.

It is of excellent design and craftsmanship; motifs used in the carved
designs are lotus blossoms—Buddhist emblems of triumph over self—and
flying doves; the border is of inlaid wood, and the niche inside is for the
sacred image.

In addition to the Buddhist churches, Protestant and Catholic Christian
groups were also represented at the camps, and schedules for Mass, Sunday
schools. Junior Worship, Issei Services, and Combined Services announced
in local camp publications. At Christmastime festivities were conducted for
all the residents in their mess halls or assembly rooms; for instance, Minidoka,
with its thirty-five mess halls, had a Christmas block party in each hall.

[ 126 ]

Plant of Twenty Days

One of the first art exhibitions to be held in a Relocation Camp was at
Amache, Colorado, in September, 1942, when the residents joined in a
Labor Day Festival. The display of artificial flowers at this exhibition was
the surprise event of the week for both members of the administrative staff
and camp residents.

The question of where the flower makers got the paper and cloth, the wire
and the coloring materials mystified them almost as much as how there had
been so much unsuspected talent in their midst.

It was later revealed that the women, especially, had saved every scrap
of usable paper and string from packages that had been sent in, and that
the wire for flower stems had been snipped from surplus window screen
material, just as it had been saved and used at Poston, Arizona, for legs and
feet of their small carved birds (see page 28).

The peony—sometimes known as the Plant of Twenty Days—has long been
a favorite flower with the Japanese. The container for this beautiful artificial
flower was made by a resident from a slab found in a fuel pile, cut into four
sections about three inches high and joined together, the bark left on.

[ 128 ]

vs

Francis Stewart

63. ARTIFICIAL FLOWERS AT AMACHE, COLORADO
A Labor Day Festival was celebrated in 1942 with a fine exhibition of

HANDMADE FLOWERS, ARRANGED IN CONTAINERS MADE IN THE CAMP; THE RECEP¬
TACLE FOR THIS PEONY IS MADE FROM WOOD SLABS WITH THE BARK LEFT ON.

[ 129 ]

Dream Emerging

A favorite motif of the amateur craftsmen in the War Relocation Centers
was the American Eagle. It was carved in miniature many times in Poston,
Arizona, in relief at Amache, Colorado, done in tsumami at Rohwer, cro¬
cheted in pillow covers at Topaz, Utah, embroidered in linen and silk at
Heart Mountain, Wyoming, discovered in nature-formed Minidoka sage¬
brush; but probably the largest eagle of all was carved, as shown here, from
the trunk of a hardwood tree at Rohwer Center, Arkansas.

The carver never completely separated the figure of his bird from the
tree in which he first visualized it, but preferred to leave it as though it
were just beginning to emerge from earth-bound material—with wing tips,
body, and feet still not quite free to soar into space.

Probably in all time, it is the Japanese who have most loved wood as a
sculpture medium. “Here is no docile substance like the others of a char¬
acterless structure,” says Langdon Warner in his book, The Craft of the
Japanese Sculptor.—" Stubborn, insisting on its own run of grain, sudden
with knots, in the hands of a man who respects it, wood helps the carver to
unexpected beauties of line.”

[ 130 ]

Tom Parker

64. WOOD CARVING AT ROHWER, ARKANSAS

Under the capable hands of this craftsman, a former Californian, new

TO THE ART OF CARVING, AN AMERICAN EAGLE BEGINS TO EMERGE FROM THE TRUNK

OF A HARDWOOD TREE.

[ 131 ]

Concerning Festivals and Laughter

When they fixed up Bobby Kaneko for the first Labor Day parade at Tule
Lake Relocation Center in September, 1942, it was not intentionally to
advertise breakfast food for champions, but to make him be a four-petaled
flower in Contrary Mary's garden—or possibly the lucky four-leaved clover.

The Japanese are, and for ages have been, a festival-loving people; their
celebrations cover everything from religion to counting machines. “It has
been said,” writes Maud Rex Allen in Japanese Art Motives, “that under the
old condition of society . . . there was a festival for every day in the year.
This is easy to believe, for the Japanese were a pleasure-seeking, beauty-
loving people. . . .”

One of the most charming of all festivals—of any nationality—which illus¬
trates well the deep mutual love and respect between the young and the
old, is a celebration in the province of Kishu in Japan, called “The Laughing
Festival of Wasa.” It commemorates the legend that once upon a time some
local deity made quite a fool of himself in a very delightful fashion, and
all the other gods roared with laughter at him.

So once a year in the village of Wasa, beginning in the morning, all the
oldest men and all the children form a procession to the shrine, carrying
oranges and persimmons. Throughout the procession everyone is duty-
bound to remain utterly solemn. Then, when they reach the shrine, the
grayest of the gray old men turns around and faces the little ones and at
last says, “Now laugh.” They never need be asked twice; their contagious
laughter spreads to the grownups, and from morning till night the whole
district reverberates with merriment and joy.

[ 132 ]

Fiancis Stewart

65. BOBBY KANEKO, AGED FOUR, ALL DRESSED UP FOR A PARADE

The Labor Day parade at Tule Lake, California, had a great wealth of

CAMP-MADE COSTUMES. BOBBY TOOK PART IN A TABLEAU; HE WAS ONE OF “MARY,

Mary, Quite Contrary” s flowers.

Issei Engrossed

When more than a hundred thousand people of Japanese ancestry found
themselves suddenly transferred from their former homes and working
places to a strange, bewildering, and barren environment, it was natural
for some to turn to their favorite and traditional games for concentration
and recreation. Of these games, “Go,” the ancient indoor pastime of the
Japanese, was high on the list.

“Go” is sometimes likened to checkers—inappropriately, however. It is
considered a more difficult and complicated game to play expertly than either
checkers or chess, the idea being to capture both men and territory. “Every
educated man (in Japan) plays 'Go/ ” says Captain Brinkley, “but very few
develop sufficient skill to be classed in one of the nine grades of experts,
and not once in a century does a player succeed in obtaining the diploma of
the ninth, or highest grade.”

The game is ancient, having been introduced into Japan from China.
Some of the old tables were extremely elaborate. One treasured eighth cen¬
tury “Go” table ( goban) in a museum collection is made of rosetta wood,
and intricately inlaid with bird and animal designs of delicately engraved
tortoise shell and ivory, the ivory dyed with brilliant colors. When one
player’s drawer for the “Go” disk, or stones, as they are called, was pulled
out, the opponent’s drawer on the other side of the table automatically
opened. All the lines on the top surface were of ivory, inlaid transversely,
and flower patterns of various kinds of wood were inwrought at the inter¬
secting points.

The “Go” game equipment in the Relocation Camps were not elaborate,
but the playing of the game was intense and universal. Almost everyone
played it at first—before other ways were developed to employ time—“and the
children learned too,” reported Mine Okubo in her day-by-day story of the
camp life at Topaz, and it was not long until some of them were beating their
grandparents.

[ 134 ]

Tom Parker

66. PLAYING THE JAPANESE GAME “GO” AT HEART MOUNTAIN,

WYOMING

Considered more difficult than chess, this national indoor game of Japan
(introduced there from China about twelve hundred years ago), was a

GREAT FAVORITE AT THE CAMPS, ESPECIALLY WITH THE ISSEI.

[ 135 ]

Lineups at Midnight

In Tule Lake there never seemed to be enough time, space or material to go
around for all who wished to study the art of flower arranging (ikebana).
The class in the photograph was one which overflowed into the meeting
house of the local Buddhist church, where, in the absence of tables, benches
were placed one above the other to give proper height for the students as
they worked. The flower containers were handmade of wood and lined
with tomato cans. The inscriptions on these benches notify that they are the
‘property of the Buddhist Church.”

The eagerness of the Japanese to learn will never be forgotten by those
who taught and observed them at Tule Lake. When a notice would appear
on a bulletin board that a new class—in almost any subject—was to be
formed and that registration would begin, for instance, at nine on Monday
morning, a lineup would begin forming Sunday at midnight, and by day¬
break the quota would be filled.

At Tule Lake, for a long time, the residents were not allowed to go out¬
side the camp to gather plants and flowers. Since it was the center to which
difficult characters were sent—persons who came in conflict with the War
Relocation Authority—all the inhabitants suffered from the unusual restric¬
tions and military surveillance that prevailed from the beginning; the en¬
closures of barbed wire remained a feature of this camp to the end.

But permission was given for four “Procurement Clerks” to go every day
about a mile outside camp and collect material. In the summer season they
gathered cattails, wild plums, tule grasses, willows, and sagebrush, but during
the winter season they had only willows to use. Finally, after about two and
a half years of cutting, the willow supply was exhausted.

Mrs. Eto, who supervised the camp’s art program reports from here: “For
a while we thought that we would have to disband the classes, but our
problems were solved when Mr. Eugene Dimon came ... as our Com¬
munity Activity Supervisor. He arranged ... so that we were able to go
out to the Modoc Forest about 20 miles away. We were able to gather many
kinds of greens, such as cedars, mahogany, pines, and sagebrush.”

[ 136 ]

Robert H. Ross

67. FLOWER ARRANGEMENT CLASS IN TULE LAKE, CALIFORNIA

At Tule Lake, there was never room enough for all who wished to study
flower arrangement (ikcbana); this class is being held in a
Buddhist church.

[ 137 ]

Symbols of Communication

In a tar-paper-covered barrack at Topaz, Utah, during most of the reloca¬
tion period, was housed the most extensive collection of Japanese language
books and literature to be found in any Relocation Center.

The collection got its start when the librarian asked the residents if they
would make an inventory of their Japanese language books to see what they
might lend or give for the use of the residents of the camp. The response
was generous; some were able to supplement their gifts by sending back to
their homes and storehouses for more; finally, purchases were made outside,
and the ten thousand evacuees at Topaz found that because of the industry
of their librarian and their own generous co-operation, they had assembled
the most important library of Japanese literature in any camp.

Over the entrance door was hung the beautiful sign photographed on the
opposite page, which had been shaped and carved by Japanese craftsmen
from a native cedar limb. The inscription reads: topaz Japanese library.
The sign is now in the East Asiatic Library at Columbia University in
New York City.

The attractive mailboxes, constructed from scrap materials found about
the camp, were made by residents at Heart Mountain, Wyoming. Hundreds
of such boxes, as well as name plates (see page 27) were made everywhere
to relieve the barrenness of the tar-paper barracks fronts.

The box in the lower left-hand corner is a Japanese “mite box,” into
which contributions were dropped for current community causes.

[ 138 ]

68. SIGN FROM CEDAR LIMB; LETTER BOXES FROM SCRAP WOOD

The most extensive library of Japanese literature in any War Relocation
Camp was at Topaz, Utah; this distinguished four-foot hand-carved sign

FROM A CEDAR LIMB WAS HUNG ABOVE THE ENTRANCE DOOR.

John D . Sihtff

Short pieces of waste wood were used by scores of Heart Mountain resi¬
dents TO MAKE MAILBOXES. H. Stutm

[ 139 ]

Order and Beauty

When Mr. Imafugi, a member of the American Legion who served with the
American Expeditionary Forces during World War I, found himself de¬
tained at Heart Mountain Relocation Center because of his Japanese
ancestry, he set about to make his small barracks cubicle reflect pleasant
memories of his childhood days in Japan.

He covered the rough walls and two-by-four framework of his room with
composition board, and from odds and ends of lumber which he was able
to find in camp, he made all the furniture and most of the furnishings,
including the lantern and the charcoal box for the teakettle.

If it were possible to fill every page of this book with pictures of the
barracks homes of our people of Japanese ancestry and their family and
neighbor relationships, it would be the best single way of interpreting their
minds, their potentialities, and their spirit to those who have not known
them. Lacking this privilege, the few glimpses of their home places which
are shown here must serve as symbols for all.

[ 140 ]

Tom Parker

69. A MEMBER OF THE AMERICAN LEGION AT HEART MOUNTAIN

Mr. Imafugi, who served with the AEF during World War I, began, imme¬
diately upon arrival at Heart Mountain War Relocation Center, to

CREATE A BARRACKS LIVING ROOM OF TRADITIONAL CHARM, MAKING PRACTICALLY
EVERY ITEM OF FURNITURE AND FURNISHINGS FROM SUCH MATERIALS AS HE COULD

FIND IN THE CAMP.

[ 141 ]

Not Too Private

The drawing on the opposite page was made by Mine Okubo, a resident of
the War Relocation Camp at Topaz, Utah, from its opening until her reloca¬
tion in 1945. It was made for Trek , a magazine published by a group of
Nisei for the Projects Reports Division at Topaz. Miss Okubo was art editor
of the publication; this drawing of hers pictures the not-too-private life of the
bathhouse. Every block had its own dining hall, laundry, showers, and
toilets.

Familiar sights around these block units would be bathrobed figures
scurrying back and forth in wooden geta to keep feet high and dry. Border¬
ing the laundry shower units would be the comparatively lush gardens of
the communities (such as the one on pages 93 and 95), which could easily
be reached by rubber hose attached to the water system, and where upkeep
of fountains, fish pools, and the like would not be too difficult.

Miss Okubo made many very complete documentary, and wonderfully
humorous, drawings of life, first in one of the preliminary assembly centers
—Tanforan Race Track—then at Topaz, several of these she used to illus¬
trate her book. Citizen 13660, the number given her by the government,
which she retained until her relocation.

It is a remarkably clear and keen account of her personal experience and
observation of what happened to the people in her camp. The book is an
excellent running history, written and pictured with delightful frankness-
altogether a rare chapter in the literature on evacuation and resettlement.

[ 142 ]

70. A COMMUNITY LAUNDRY AND BATHHOUSE
This drawing is by Mine Okubo, whose book, Citizen 13660 , gives a vivid and

ENTERTAINING ACCOUNT OF LIFE AND WORK IN THE WAR RELOCATION CAMP AT

Topaz.

[ 143 ]

Autumn Mood

How many a thing which we cast to the ground.

When others pick it up becomes a gem!

—GEORGE MEREDITH

This attractive arrangement of things Japanese came about in response to
the writer’s request that something characteristic of the arts at Heart Moun¬
tain Camp be set up for the photographer to record after he had completed
certain routine assignments.

This composition exemplifies that rare ability of the Japanese to make
something beautiful out of almost nothing. A nicked draintile, a willow
branch, a picnic box, a poem written on the blank side of a strip of wall¬
paper—these are the simple ingredients.

The brick-red tile (flower vase) has the nicked side turned to the wall, the
willow branch is trimmed and arranged according to accepted standards,
with the fallen leaf on the ground to suggest autumn. Affording contrast
in form and material is the lunch box, made up of scraps of wood in gradu¬
ated shades, carefully joined, smoothed, and finished.

The short poem written by hand on the blank side of a roll of wallpaper,
is believed to have been composed by someone in the camp. Roughly trans¬
lated it admonished the reader to treat others with the gentleness of a
zephyr, but oneself with the severity of an autumn frost.

It is not probable that the willow, the picnic box, and the poem were
combined with any subtle allusion to Japan’s “oldest organized form of
amusement . . . the Kagaki, or poetical picnic” in mind, but it did remind
one of an ancient tradition referred to by Captain Brinkley in his History
of Japan—' Parties of men and women met at appointed places, and com¬
posed couplets, delivering them with accompaniment of music or dancing.”

[ 144 ]

H . Sturm

71. “AUTUMN MOOD” COMPOSITION, HEART MOUNTAIN, WYOMING

Informal flower arrangement in a broken draintile (the broken part

TURNED TO THE WALL), A HANDMADE LUNCH BOX, AND A POEM.

[ 145 ]

Documentary

Mr. Sugimoto, who lived with his wife and daughter in the War Re¬
location Center at Rohwer, Arkansas, not only gave his full support to all
the arts of the camp, assisting at the main exhibits held there, but as an
individual painter, recorded with deep feeling, significant events in the life
and culture of the community.

The situation pictured here, of a young mother whose man is at the fight¬
ing front was paralleled in every camp, associated with the same symbols that
appear in the painting.

Another powerful work in Mr. Sugimoto s semidocumentary series is of
a Japanese father and mother sitting in their barracks room spelling out
the words in a telegram just received from the American government which
officially notifies them that their son has just been killed in action.

The documentary records of life in the Relocation Camps, whether
painted, drawn, or written, although direct and honest, and often powerful
in their emotional content, were remarkably free from bitterness. Quite often
a very serious work would be mixed with humor. This spirit was reflected
in an editorial by Jim Yamada in the final issue of Trek, a special publica¬
tion of the Projects Reports Division at Topaz, Utah:

Now that our return to normal life is imminent, we find that the
impressions of evacuation most sharply etched in our mind are not the
kind we thought we would remember six months ago. The last few
months have smoothed over a lot of the sharp edges of our original
anger and bitterness, and now we see more of the light as well as the
shadows.

One of our brightest memories of Tanforan [one of the preliminary
assembly centers] is the Issei, who couldn’t look at “Terry and the
Pirates” without taking issue with the artist. We can see him now,
advancing on his friends with a specimen of the comic strip in his hand.
“Look, look,” he would say, “what’s wrong with this fellow, always
drawing Japanese with buck teeth?” Then he would smirk triumphantly
and flash a pair of incisors which, for luminosity and surface area, would
be hard to equal.

[ 146 ]

John D . Schtff

72. LIFE AS SEEN BY A PAINTER AT ROHWER, ARKANSAS

Henry Sugimoto filled his canvases and his sketchbooks with honest de¬
tailed RECORDS OF CAMP LIFE AS HE OBSERVED IT AND FELT IT. THIS PAINTING OF
A YOUNG MOTHER WHOSE MAN WAS FIGHTING IN THE UNITED STATES ARMED
FORCES WAS A SYMBOL OF WHAT WENT ON IN EVERY WAR RELOCATION CaMP.

[ 147 ]

Mrs. Hirahara’s Pupils

The pictures of these four women with their exhibits suggest the way in
which the arts at all the centers spread out among the residents. Most of
the creations for the various exhibitions shown here were done by pupils, or
by residents working on their own, many of them persons who had never
before done anything in these arts and crafts.

The four flower arrangers who, with several other residents, displayed
pieces for one of the final camp exhibitions, were pupils of Mrs. Hirahara of
Rohwer Relocation Center, Arkansas. As was the custom everywhere, the
flower arrangements were shown with examples of decorative handwriting
in the background—these also were done in camp.

In this record, only the briefest mention can be made of those domestic
arts which, among the women in every camp, outnumbered all others—that
is, the making of clothes for family, friends, and neighbors.

Classes in sewing and tailoring were conducted in several camps, where
great numbers of women learned to sew and design for the first time, and
many moderately good needleworkers improved their workmanship, some of
them acquiring professional skill.

But possibly the widest influence came through friends and neighbors
who taught each other in their homes—not only sewing, but other needle-
crafts, such as knitting and crocheting, two important arts widely practiced
in all of the camps.

[ 148 ]

73. FOUR FLOWER ARRANGEMENTS, ROHWER

These four women from a large class in flower arranging are shown with

SAMPLES OF THEIR OWN WORK. TlIE CALLIGRAPHY PANELS AND OTHER WALL DECO¬
RATIONS WERE MADE TO SERVE AS BACKGROUNDS FOR THESE PIECES.

[ 149 ]

Green Thumb

Among the fine attractions in the flower shows of Rohwer, Arkansas, were
the wonderful chrysanthemum plants grown by an experienced florist, Mr.
Tsunekawa, who is shown here with a dwarf plant containing five hundred
buds. He had them all in bloom a few days later in time for the camp
flower show.

The Japanese gardener regards the chrysanthemum ( kiku ) as a toy for him
to play with, and no other people in the world have performed such miracles
with this plant. He has produced giant blossoms with petals over a foot in
length, but he does not consider it an achievement merely to raise giants;
to produce a great number of blossoms on one plant calls for much more
skill. Also, he has been known to successfully graft several different kinds
and colors on one plant. He has produced hundreds of varieties and hun¬
dreds of dblor shades, and the garden of a modest Japanese household may
contain as many as five hundred varieties of chrysanthemums.

Evolved from the simple daisy, the chrysanthemum came to be the em¬
blem of the Imperial Family, and the most important motif in Japanese
decorative art. People become rhapsodic when referring to it, calling it such
names as the “flower of disheveled symmetry,” the “tousled monster,”
“shockheaded beauty,” etc.

Some of the varieties have fascinating names (as told by Brinkley): the
“jewel of the inner court,” the “autumn amulet,” the “ten-fingered, ten-eyed
flower,” the “sleep of the hoary tiger,” the “moon-touched blossom,” the
“crystal palace,” the “five-lake hoarfrost,” the “three treasure petal,” and
so on.

[ 150 ]

Paul Paris

74. A CHRYSANTHEMUM PLANT AT ROHWER, ARKANSAS

One of Mr. Tsunekawa’s collection of plants, this dwarf daisy chrysan¬
themum was twelve months old when this photograph was taken. Ten
days later it was shown at a camp exhibition, with five hundred blossoms.

[ 151 ]

Chrysanthemums and Calligraphy

Chrysanthemum-time at Manzanar was celebrated by an exhibition of
these favorite flowers that would have done credit to a community many
times its size. A section of the show of 1945 is illustrated here showing
more than thirty varieties of chrysanthemums on one table; the stalls were
so arranged that only a fraction of the show could be recorded on one plate
of the camera.

On the walls are examples of fine calligraphy and decorative painting,
and at the end of the long room is a mural decoration done by artists of the
center.

The chrysanthemum with its “strange bitter outdoor tang” and its many
forms was introduced into America just a century ago. But in Japan it has
been the national flower for hundreds of years, and records reveal that it has
been known to man in Eastern Asia for more than two thousand years. The
people of Japan, more than of any other land, developed this ancient plant
to the greatest variety of flower and leaf, and her artists and craftsmen have
used it as a decorative motif in myriads of ways.

One of the most familiar art motifs is chrysanthemums floating in running
water. It is a symbol of longevity, and the source of the legend, in the
province of Kai, is a hill called Chrysanthemum Mount, which overhangs a
clear, crystal-pure stream. Whoever drinks from this stream after the petals
have begun to fall into it, is assured of a long, happy life.

[ 152 ]

Toyo Mtyatake

75. CHRYSANTHEMUMS AND POEMS AT CAMP MANZANAR,

CALIFORNIA

At this autumn ciirysanthkmum exhibition at Manzanab, the flowers

WERE COMBINED IN DELIGHTFUL PROPORTIONS WITH POEMS ON THE WALL,
EXECUTED IN GOOD CALLIGRAPHY.

[ 153 ]

From Many Hands

The residents of Rohwer, Arkansas, supported a strong and spirited pro¬
gram of the arts; these photographs of two of their exhibitions in the Gen¬
eral Assembly Hall—the place in which most of them were held—suggest the
nature and variety of the shows.

The upper photograph pictures one of the earlier exhibits at Rohwer, in
which a great deal of weaving is shown; as stated elsewhere, this camp
carried out the most successful program in weaving of any Relocation
Center.

The lower photograph depicts what was probably the last exhibition to
be held in any Relocation Center. The local committee arranged for the
exhibition in order to help procure several of the photographs shown in this
book. Here was featured another almost exclusive product of Rohwer—the
highly esteemed kobu , no two of which are ever alike—the long table con¬
tains a careful selection of small pieces. In this picture can be seen the
murals which, at an earlier date, the residents painted for their meeting
hall. In the first photograph, the murals are concealed so as not to compete
in color and pattern interest with the exhibition pieces.

[ 154 ]

Paul Fans

76. ROHWER GENERAL ASSEMBLY HALL IN HOLIDAY STYLE

Exhibitions of the arts were held in every War Relocation Center; here

ARE TWO SHOWS AT ROHWER, ARKANSAS, ONE FEATURING WEAVING, IN WHICH THE
WOMEN OF THIS CENTER EXCELLED, THE OTHER RoHWER’s FASCINATING
SPECIALTY, THE kobtl.

[ 155 ]

Moonlight and Meteorite

This water color, “Moonlight Over Topaz,” was done by Chiura Obata,
who has not only captured the mood of the lonely desert region in which
this camp was located, but he has turned an unexpected flood of water to
poetic advantage, giving added color and reflected light to his composition;
the overflow which created the miniature lake was brought about by a
prosaic break in a water main.

Mr. Obata was not only a teacher at Topaz, but he was largely responsible
for the earlier art program in a preliminary assembly center. After relocation,
he was reappointed to the faculty of the University of California, and
returned to duties which had been interrupted by evacuation.

The scene shows the barbed-wire enclosure, one of the watch towers
erected by the army, but later abandoned, because never needed, the en¬
trance gate and the gatehouse where everybody and everything was offi¬
cially checked in and out, and a suggestion of the evening-lighted tar-paper
barracks where the residents were quartered. In the distance are shown
the mountains where a large meteorite was discovered by two walking
companions from the Topaz camp, the now famous “Drum Mountains
Meteorite,” the eighth largest ever found in the United States, and now in
the collection of the Smithsonian Institution in Washington. The govern¬
ment has published a bulletin on it by E. P. Henderson and S. H. Perry,
from which the following facts are taken:

Yashio Nishimato and Akio Ujihara “temporarily stationed at the Topaz
Relocation Center,” while prospecting for rock suitable for their lapidary
arts, about sixteen miles west of Topaz in the Drum Mountains, on Septem¬
ber 24, 1944, came across a rock that seemed different and that, on being
struck with a hammer, gave off a metallic ring.

The men thought they had found something extraordinary and sent a
specimen of the rock to the Smithsonian. “The specimen was small and very
much battered, but the description and sketch of the mass that accompanied
it indicated clearly that a new and large meteorite had very likely been
found.” After thorough investigation the specimen was identified as a
meteorite; it was moved from its resting place in the field to the Relocation
Center, where it was displayed for several days prior to shipment to
Washington, where it is now on permanent exhibition for the public.

[ 156 ]

John D. Schiff

77. A PAINTING, “MOONLIGHT OVER TOPAZ”

“YOU SHOULD SEE TOPAZ BY MOONLIGHT,” SAID A JAPANESE RESIDENT TO A VISITOR
WHO WAS NOT TOO FAVORABLY IMPRESSED BY TOPAZ IN THE DAYTIME. CHIURA
OBATA, A RESIDENT TEACHER OF PAINTING, TOOK ADVANTAGE OF THE LITTLE POND
CAUSED BY A BROKEN WATER MAIN TO GIVE US THIS POETIC VIEW OF THE ENTRANCE

to the Utah camp.

[ 157 ]

From the Woodpile

A favorite treatment of wood-relief carvings carried on in several of the
camps is seen in the upper photograph opposite, where raised portions are
washed in with color; such pieces make effective wall decorations. This
particular panel is also interesting because it shows the bark areas remain¬
ing on the frame of the carving which proves that it was carved from one of
the fuel-pile slabs mentioned frequently here as camp handicrafts material.

The example of in tarsia work is from Poston, Arizona; it was designed
by Kakumen Tsurioka, an able painter who made many sketches of Poston
Center and the surrounding country during the period of evacuation and
resettlement. He also designed the famous Mohave Room in Poston, and
painted the principal murals.

The light-colored wood used in the inlay is probably pine, though it
could be maple or holly. The design was suggested by the barracks and
water towers of Poston, and the mountains in the distance; the tray was
carved and inlaid by Mr. Tanaka.

A suggestion of Japanese economy is seen in the selection of the plank
from which the tray is made; the average American craftsman would cer¬
tainly have discarded the plank, or at least cut it in size, because of the
defect in the lower left-hand corner. But the Japanese carver reasoned that
the defect did not lessen the utility of the tray, nor weaken its structure
perceptibly; moreover, it seemed to him a very choice bit of grain and a
kind of balance for the still more interesting knot that appears above the
barracks.

[ 158 ]

78. A COLORED WOOD CARVING; A WOOD INLAY

The carving is from a wood pile slab—the evidence is the bark visible on

TWO CORNERS. M . Omata

The tray, made from a discarded plank, is decorated by an inlay, or

IxNTARSIA, of LIGHT WOOD. John D . Schiff

[ 159 ]

Primer for Ikebana

This attractive arrangement of fruits and vegetables from Rohwer Re¬
location Center, was done by Mrs. S. Yakura, teacher of fruit and flower ar¬
rangement, who, at the time, had eighty pupils in her class.

Everything in this composition except the grapes, was grown at Rohwer,
and the design follows traditional principles governing the arrangement of
these domestic products. The porcupine pickle, a salad vegetable, was
grown by someone in the camp from seeds sent from Japan.

Arrangements of this kind were regarded with pleasure by visitors to
the camps; the art has always been taken seriously in Japan. An idea of
the dignity assigned these earth products is conveyed by Samuel Wain-
wright in his book, Beauty in Japan:

My sister took lessons [ikebana, or flower arranging] from a man
who was considered one of the highest authorities on the subject. . . .
She went to her first lesson with all the thrills of a new adventure, only
to be given a flowering cabbage, two marigolds and some straggly cow-
peas to arrange in a flat bowl; but her teacher, clad in the silk robes of
Japan, studied each piece carefully, clipped off a few unnecessary
lines, turned, twisted and arranged the flowers until the composition
was complete. He made the cabbage unfold its snowy leaves in graceful
curves, added the marigold for a touch of color, and with the trailing
cow-peas softened and drew the whole together. It was a convincing
demonstration of what can be accomplished by applying the rules of
flower arrangement, using ordinary materials.

The growing of any kind of plants is an aesthetic experience for the
Japanese—as it is with many an amateur gardener and dirt farmer in other
lands. The beautiful arrangement of these vegetables on a small tray is a
kind of symbolic index to the gardens, fields, vineyards, and orchards in
which everything is raised on a grand scale. It has not been possible here
to record the achievements of the residents of the camps in their victory
gardens—of which there were thousands—and the agricultural activities
connected with the camps, or the thrilling stories of how they left the
camps temporarily to save the crops at some neighborhood or area. A direc¬
tor of one of the Relocation Camps said, “They often accomplish the im¬
possible.”

Another director reported that when it got around that WRA would plant
potatoes at Amache, Colorado, the farmers of the area came to warn them
that potatoes never had been and could not possibly be grown in that area.
But the Japanese farmers asked to be permitted to try; results: they raised
in that camp alone in one harvest, eight carloads of potatoes, enough to
supply all the Relocation Camps of the country.

[ 160 ]

Paul Paris

79. A ROHWER, ARKANSAS, FRUIT AND VEGETABLE ARRANGEMENT

Students of flower arrangement studied just as carefully the principles

OF FRUIT AND VEGETABLE ARRANGEMENT. EVERYTHING IN THIS GROUP EXCEPT THE
GRAPES WAS GROWN IN ROHWER. TlIE ARTIST WHO GROUPED THESE PRODUCTS ON
A SELECTED BOARD HAD EIGHTY PUPILS IN HER CLASSES.

[ 161 ]

Treasure of the Desert

Rural people everywhere feel a quick interest in those nature forms
which remind them of something quite remote from the thing itself. And
so there are countless instances where mountains, rivers, and valleys have
been given permanent names, because of some resemblance to animals, birds,
fish, or what not.

Just so, country people have a sympathetic appreciation for small natural
objects—plants, tree roots, plant skeletons—whose lines or shapes take on
added interest, and sometimes enchantment, by suggesting other forms.

Such objects the Japanese discovered, picked up and cherished in every
camp; but possibly Minidoka charmed up more of such forms than did any
other center, because of the omnipresent sagebrush and greasewood. Or,
it may have been because certain residents there felt an all-absorbing in¬
terest in these natural reminders. One man in Minidoka who had a fine col¬
lection refused to sell any of the pieces, preferring to use them as “going
away” gifts for his friends.

Many barracks were decorated with these peculiar treasures of the desert,
not only weird forms, but often beautiful ones. The piece opposite is a
fine example, which was never changed from the original as found, except
to strip off some bark and soft decayed wood, then polish it by hand to an
enduring satiny luster.

The finder of this animated nature piece was particularly lucky because
the crane—and it could hardly be imagined as anything else—is a Japanese
symbol for long life and happiness. Its quality of aliveness is in keeping
with a crane tradition related by George A. Audsley in his book, Keramic
Art of Japan: “There is one rather remarkable fact in common with this
crane, which is, that Japanese avoid representing it as dead. During many
years’ study of their art works, we do not remember once having seen a
reproduction of a dead crane.”

[ 162 ]

Jo Tanaka

80. WIND AND SAND CARVED CRANE, MINIDOKA, IDAHO

Japanese, especially the rural people, have always been fascinated by

NATURE FORMS, OF WHICH THE WESTERN DESERTS, WITH THEIR GNARLED SACE-
BRUSH AND GREASEWOOD, FURNISHED MANY EXAMPLES, BOTH
GROTESQUE AND BEAUTIFUL.

[ 163 ]

Japanese Medley

Boys’ Day, on the “fifth of the fifth moon,” May, “the month of the
seedlings,” was celebrated in all the camps. On this day, families blessed
with boys hoisted brightly colored cloth or paper carp on long poles; the
wind filled them out, making them seem to swim in the air like real fish.
One fish would be displayed for each son—a large one for the oldest, smaller
for the younger brothers according to age, and quite a tiny one for baby
brother.

These colorful emblems are symbolic of courage, because the carp is con¬
sidered by the Japanese the most fearless of all fish; it swims upstream, and
is often depicted by their artists leaping up waterfalls.

Near Manzanar in California and Topaz in Utah, were abundant slate
deposits, and as soon as these regions were opened up to the residents,
the craftsmen among them began bringing home blocks of the material
for shaping into utensils. Among the most popular and interesting of these
utensils were the decorated inkstones which the community artists and
calligraphers used for rubbing sticks of India ink into liquid form. The
stone found at Manzanar was gray in contrast to the darker, often black
colors of Topaz.

Painters and calligraphers brought with them what they could of their
brush and ink supplies. But, as enthusiasm for the arts grew and spread
beyond anyone’s expectation, supplies dwindled, and at least one artist,
known to the writer, confessed that he had resorted to robbing the family
cat of fur to make some brushes—with “very good result.”

The tasseled crepe paper and chenille decorations are about 6 inches in
diameter. The flower forms of every color of the rainbow are carefully
sewn onto muslin-covered balls, wadded with paper and cotton.

[ 164 ]

[u Si

XT

0

m

T

Mm

81. WOOD, PAPER AND STONE GIVEN TRADITIONAL TREATMENT

The carved wood tobacco container and slate inkstone (suziiri) came

FROM MaNZANAR; THE PAPER FISH, FOR DISPLAY ON BOYS* Day, ARE FROM HEART

Mountain, as are the gay paper and chenille balls, “to hang as decorations

to brighten dull rooms.

m M lit IT.

"For the People Had a Mind to Work”

It is difficult for one following these pictures to realize how bleak and
barren these cities of tar-paper barracks were when the army moved the
uprooted Japanese-Americans into them.

They began at once planting seeds, and, as soon as possible, transplanting
shrubs and trees, sometimes walking miles to find them. They beautified
their living quarters within and without, using scrap materials. Neighbors
combined to improve the appearance and morale of their communities; block
by block greenness and then flower brilliance emerged, harsh architectural
outlines gradually softened; pools of water in the once arid earth reflected
clouds and starry nights.

At Amache, Colorado, cottonwoods were transplanted from near-by low¬
lands; they caught on and grew quite rapidly. A block manager suggested
buying Chinese elms from some nursery, and scores of willing residents
chipped in fifty cents apiece; when his birthday came around he donated
thirty more for his proud community. Trees at Amache were glorified—
morning-glorified, one might say—for here they were set off by masses and
banks of brilliant blue morning-glories.

Transplanted silver poplar trees grew well at Topaz. A pleasant feature
here, as in other camps where the sun was strong, was that benches were
placed at each end of the barracks so that children and older people could
sun themselves in the morning and enjoy the shade in the afternoon.' At
Topaz, hundreds of fire bushes gave brilliance to the landscape.

[ 166 ]

82. SURPRISE APPROACH TO BARRACKS; GILA, ARIZONA

The barracks living quarters in all the camps were unvarying in design

AND STRUCTURE—THE SAME LENGTH, THE SAME WIDTH, THE SAME HEIGHT, EACH
ONE COVERED WITH TAR PAPER HELD DOWN BY SLATS. BUT GRADUALLY, HERE AND
THERE, A SPECIAL STOOP OR DOOR WAS BUILT, A FOOT SCRAPER DEVISED, A WINDOW
FRAME COVERED WITH PAPER TO KEEP THE GLARING SUN OUT, A TREE BROUGHT
FROM FAR AWAY AND TRANSPLANTED, STONES GATHERED AND ARRANGED, AND
PICKETS MADE BY HAND TO ENCLOSE A GARDEN.

[ 167 ]

Transplantation

One of the disheartening experiences of the Relocation Camp was the
closing, in 1944, of Jerome Center, and the consequent redistribution of
the ten thousand residents. It was especially sad for those who had coura¬
geously and hopefully improved and made beautiful their barracks homes
and their dooryards. Views of two typical gardens that had to be abandoned
are shown on the succeeding page.

But not all growing plants had to be left behind. Those who moved to
Rohwer Center, about fifteen miles from Jerome, were able to salvage more
than the others. Mrs. S. Matsunaga, whose family was Rohwer-bound, dug
up as many plants from their flower garden as she could successfully trans¬
fer to cans and boxes, and had them moved with their belongings to their
next home. Most of the furniture on the wagon had been made in camp
from materials at hand, for when the evacuees had arrived, more than two
years before, the only furniture provided for them had been steel cot-beds.

[ 168 ]

Charles E. Mace

83. LEAVING JEROME, ARKANSAS, FOR ROHWER CENTER
In the summer of 1944, Jerome was closed, and its inhabitants sent to

OTHER CAMPS. THE TRUCK CARRIES THE FURNITURE, ALL MADE IN CAMP BY THE
RESIDENTS, AND ONE OF THE WOMEN IS SAVING WHAT SHE CAN OF HER FLOWER
GARDEN TO TRANSPLANT WHEN THEY START OVER AGAIN IN ROHWER.

[169]

“You Can’t Forget a Garden
When You Have Planted Seed—”

In the summer of 1944, the Jerome, Arkansas, Center was closed, and its
residents transferred to other camps. For some of the homemakers of Jerome
this was a sad move, because many families had taken great pains, some¬
times at considerable expense, to make their living quarters more attractive
and to develop fine gardens.

The two photographs shown will suggest something of the quality and
character of the gardens which were left behind, soon to be withered by the
hot Arkansas,sun and winds, and in the absence of human care, to sink
back into the earth.

Samuel Wainwright, understanding their feeling toward gardens, wrote
in Beauty in Japan:

No matter how small the allotted space for a garden, the Japanese,
when he builds a home, considers it a necessity rather than a luxury.
This is recognized to such a degree that it is customary to estimate the
cost of a garden when the plans for the dwelling are drawn. . . . The
planning, construction, and care . . . reveals . . . their national char¬
acteristic of making the most of what they have.

[ 170 ]

Charles E. Mace

84. LAST DAYS OF JEROME-SUMMER, 1944

The residents here were transported to other camps when Jerome was
closed. Their greatest regret was leaving their gardens to the withering
Arkansas sun. Below is Bachelors’ Row, where the all-male residents,
besides raising beautiful gardens, had also made extensive architectural

IMPROVEMENTS.

[171]

Part II

A Look Back: A Look Forward

tvtit that which mis cbujhni&n4r7yurfl^ luwn^
Shall in-tke trial Jnvvt

J

okn Miltotv •■ coMUi • Lines ppt~p2^

John D Sthff

A HANDMADE ROSE

When the craftsman of Roiiwer Relocation Camp who made this red elm

FLOWER CONTAINER PASSED THROUGH New YORK ON HIS WAY TO KOREA, HE WISHED
TO HAVE HIS HANDIWORK PHOTOGRAPHED, RUT HE COULD NOT FIND SUITABLE

flowers. Mrs. Ninomiya, whose charming hon-kei are shown on page 17,

MADE THIS ARTIFICIAL ROSE AND ARRANGED IT FOR HIM.

Artificial flowers were made in every camp, especially where, in the

BEGINNING, RESIDENTS WERE NOT ALLOWED TO GO OUTSIDE BARRED-WIRE EN¬
CLOSURES FOR PLANTS AND FLOWERS. THE FLOWER-LOVING JAPANESE FELT THEY
MUST PROVIDE SUBSTITUTES, SO SCORES OF AMATEURS GLADLY REGAN A NEW

OCCUPATION.

Even after the Japanese with their green thumbs had living flowers

GROWING IN PROFUSION ALL AROUND THEM, THOSE WHO BY THIS TIME HAD DEVEL¬
OPED SYNTHETIC GREEN THUMBS CONTINUED TO CREATE THEIR SPECIALT1ES-FOR
EXHIBITIONS, FOR DECORATIONS IN THE BARRACKS, OR FOR CIFTS-SO PERFECT IN
FORM AND COLOR THAT ONLY THE CLOSEST EXAMINATION COULD DETECT THEM

FROM THE REAL.

A LOOK BACK: A LOOK FORWARD

T HESE fragments of the arts of the Japanese in our War Reloca¬
tion Camps are more than the handmade objects of a small, and
at the time, comparatively unknown group in our population; they are
symbols of an event without parallel in American history.

This event as stated elsewhere, was the rounding up and the up¬
rooting from their homes and working places of over one hundred
thousand persons of Japanese ancestry, seventy thousand of them
American-born citizens; taking them first to fifteen temporary assem¬
bly centers and later to ten Relocation Camps, to remain in detention
until their resettlement. It was at these camps that most of these arts
were created, although some of the pioneers began in the assembly
centers turning to the arts to help them face the uncertain, dishearten¬
ing, and confusing life before them.

The ten camps, which became sizable cities, were given the name of
“Relocation Centers” because, as announced by President Roosevelt
in the beginning, it was the intention of the government to relocate
the evacuees as soon as conditions would permit. During the early
stages of this unprecedented mass exodus, the air was pretty well filled
with the blare of brass.

On March 2, 1942, Public Proclamation No. 1 was issued by Lieu¬
tenant General John L. De Witt, Commander of the Western Defense
Command-all persons of Japanese descent, aliens and citizens alike,
would eventually be removed from the western areas of Washington,
Oregon and California.

For some, “eventually” meant right away; twenty days later the first
large contingent arrived at an inland reception center from Los
Angeles. By August 7, the clean-up was complete; Western Defense
Command announced that 110,000 people had been removed.

In the meantime, Army engineers were feverishly constructing ten
barracks cities in isolated areas between the Sierra Nevada Mountains
and the lower Mississippi Valley. Because the Army was “deeply dis-

[175]

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

trustful” of the evacuees, and insisted that they be located "at a safe
distance” from military installations, power lines, and reservoirs, the
choice of locations was quite limited; therefore most of the centers
were situated in areas of desolation.

Only two of these were ready for occupancy when evacuation began,
so the great majority of evacuees were moved into temporary accom¬
modations, mostly race tracks and fair grounds.

"The movement from assembly to relocation centers,” says a War
Relocation Authority report, "was definitely not one of the brighter
chapters in the wartime history. ... At several of the relocation cen¬
ters . . . evacuees arrived before enough barracks had been finished
to accommodate them, before stoves had been delivered for com¬
munity kitchens, and before electric lights, running water, or sanitary
facilities had been completely installed. . . . Some of them [lived] for
weeks in overcrowded communities where meals were . . . cooked out
of doors over open pits, where candles and kerosene lamps were fre¬
quently pressed into service in the highly inflammable barracks, where
baths were an almost unknown luxury, and where sewage facilities
were either primitive or lacking. . . . These conditions ... hit the
evacuees at a highly impressionable period.”

Manzanar, in California, was the first center to open; the date was
March 22, 1942. Tule Lake, also in California, was the last one to
close—March 20, 1946, just four years minus two days later. In Arizona,
there were two centers, occupying unused sections of Indian reserva¬
tions—Gila River and Poston. Poston was the largest of all the centers,
with a population of twenty thousand; Granada, near Amache, Colo¬
rado, was the smallest, with about eight thousand persons. Minidoka
was in south-central Idaho, Heart Mountain in northwestern Wyoming,
and Topaz in central Utah. The remaining two were fifteen miles
apart in faraway Arkansas—Jerome and Rohwer. Jerome was closed
during the summer of 1944, and its occupants distributed among the
other camps. For location and population of camps, see end papers.

This evacuation, regardless of its military justification, was not only,
as is now generally acknowledged, a great wartime mistake, but it
was the most complete betrayal, in one act, of civil liberties and demo¬
cratic traditions in our history, and a clear violation of the constitu¬
tional rights of seventy thousand citizens.

[176]

A LOOK BACK: A LOOK FORWARD

The Fourteenth Amendment to our Constitution reads, in part, as
follows:

No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the
privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States, nor shall any
state deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process
of Law, nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal pro¬
tection of the laws.

No state did make or enforce any law which deprived its citizens
of their constitutional rights; but the Pacific coast states exerted suffi¬
cient pressure upon our national government in 1942 to annul the
Fourteenth Amendment. Two words, “military necessity,” uttered by
the Western Defense Command, paralyzed the thinking apparatus of
men in high and low places alike, and made way for Executive Order
9066 and Public Law 503, which backed it up.

Almost two years later—December 18, 1944—the Supreme Court,
with three members dissenting, ruled that because the order for evacu¬
ation had been “legitimate exercise of war powers conferred upon the
President and Congress by the Constitution,” it was legal. In his dis¬
senting opinion, Mr. Justice Jackson wrote that the Court s validation
was “like a loaded weapon ready for the hand of any authority that
can bring forward a plausible claim of an urgent need,” and Mr.
Justice Murphy that it amounted to a “legalization of racism.” Even
Mr. Justice Frankfurter, who concurred in the opinion, said, “To find
that the Constitution does not forbid the military measure now com¬
plained of does not carry with it approval of that which Congress and
the Executive did.”

Evacuation was not only a violation of the Fourteenth Amendment,
but it was a complete break with our most cherished national tra¬
ditions:

It was the first time that our government had ever put a part of its
population behind barbed wire.

It was the first time that our nation had ever condemned individuals
for the supposed disloyalty of a group.

It was the first time in which any citizen had ever been condemned
without a trial, or a hearing, upon preferred charges.

It was the first time in which the freedom or imprisonment of a
citizen was determined by the race from which he was descended.

It was the first time in American history, I guess, that they asked

[ 177 ]

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

you who your grandfather was and if you gave the wrong answer they
did things to you different from what they did to other people. When
you thought about it too long or too hard, it made you feel just a little
sick inside. . . . [From a letter written by one of those interned.]

What was the nature of this evacuation?

John Gunther says, in his book, Inside US.A.:

This was purely a west coast phenomenon. Most Japanese-Americans
elsewhere in the country were not molested. ... To many, the forcible
evacuation of the frugal, industrious and, in general, quite patriotic
Nisei, seemed an outrage. The ancient principle that a citizen has in¬
dividual rights and should not be punishable by group indictment, was
clearly violated; a distinguished professor of law at Yale University,
pointing out that “one hundred thousand persons were sent to concen¬
tration camps on a record which wouldn't support a conviction for
stealing a dog, called the episode our worst wartime mistake, a threat
to society, a violation of law that denied every value of democracy.”

“Purely a west coast phenomenon . . .”

There was no general clamor for evacuation immediately after Pearl
Harbor. The attitude toward the Japanese-Americans, as recorded in
Congress and in the press, was warm, friendly, and confident of their
loyalty. Neither the War Department nor the Department of Justice
was considering plans for evacuation. As for the people, many of them
remembered what happened to some of their German-American neigh¬
bors during the first World War.

But out on the coast—in California, especially—certain forces were
being galvanized into action. Old prejudice and pressure groups, whose
chief business over the years had been to discredit and stigmatize the
Japanese in this country, now saw the incomparable opportunity to
achieve their life ambition—to get these people out and keep them out.
To do this now was decidedly the feeling of all the organizations that
had lined up against the Japanese. One of the oldest and strongest
anti-Japanese pressure groups, the Joint Immigration Committee, an¬
nounced at the first wartime meeting, “The Committee has received
more active and general support in the last month than ... in the last
30 years of its existence, and what we want, we ought to get now.”

The financial support of the move for evacuation, both in urban and
rural communities, came largely from individuals and groups in eco¬
nomic competition with the Japanese.

[178]

Tom Parker

85. REGISTERING FOR DEFENSE EMPLOYMENT AT AMACHE,

COLORADO

In 1943 EVACUEES WERE given an opportunity to register for defense em¬
ployment. Mrs. T. Sasabuchi, Nisei resident of Granada, brings her son,
Dennis, to headquarters with iier, and, as so many other Japanese did,
registers for service. Miss Judy Yasaki of the Center Education Depart¬
ment IS THE INTERVIEWER.

[ 179 ]

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

The pressure groups noisily upbraided the Department of Agricul¬
ture when it intimated that the Japanese genius in food production
would be a vital wartime asset. "Much of what they raise are luxury
products, anyway!” was one of the arguments advanced. It happened
that 90 per cent of the West Coast strawberries were raised by Japa¬
nese who occupied only 2 per cent of all the West Coast farmland.
They also harvested several diversified crops of vegetables every year,
and through industry, intelligence and persistence, raised the estimated
value of their once valueless farmland to $279.98 an acre as compared
with the $57.94 West Coast average. White men were anxious to move
in on this rich property, and eventually did.

It took several weeks after Pearl Harbor for the pressure groups to
turn the tide; step by step they applied their strategy, collecting, as
they went along, kindred allies in political, military, newspaper and
radio fields. The grim story of how they finally succeeded, through
Western Defense Command's magic words, "military necessity,” in
steering the Federal agencies in the desired direction, is completely
and convincingly told by Morton Grodzins in his clear and scholarly
book, Americans Betrayed, the definitive work on the whole subject of
evacuation. Mr. Grodzins makes it clear that the Japanese-Americans
were not the only Americans betrayed.

The government order for evacuation, "unintentionally, but none
the less effectively,” seemed to put the official seal of approval on the
vicious propaganda coming out of the West. Now, more and more
people everywhere began to wonder, and to think as a motion picture
representative did, who told a WRA staff member, "There must be
something seriously wrong with those people, or the Army wouldn't
have 'em all under wraps. That's all I need to know.”

Many of the seventy thousand Nisei—the generation born on Ameri¬
can soil—firmly believed to the very end that their good record as
citizens would protect them. Their principal organ and mouthpiece,
the J.A.C.L. (Japanese American Citizens League) issued a widely
quoted statement:

If, in the judgment of military and Federal authorities, evacuation
of Japanese residents from the west coast is a primary step toward
insuring the safety of this nation, we will have no hesitation in com¬
plying with the necessities implicit in that judgment. But [and this was
not widely quoted in the press], if, on the other hand, such evacuation
is primarily a measure whose surface urgency cloaks the desires of

[180]

SEMIPRECIOUS STONES FROM UTAH MOUNTAINS

Topaz Relocation Center was witiiin walking distance of mountain ranges

RICH IN SEMIPRECIOUS STONES, WHICH THOSE WHO WORKED IN THE LAPIDARY SHOP
GATHERED, CUT, POLISHED, AND OFTEN MOUNTED. OBJECTS MOST COMMONLY MADE
WERE BOOK ENDS, PINS, RINGS, AND PENDANTS—PENDANTS ESPECIALLY. STONES
INCLUDED AGATE, OBSIDIAN, FLUORITE, JASPER, CALCITE, AND TOPAZ.

A LOOK BACK: A LOOK FORWARD

political or other pressure groups who want us to leave merely from
motives of self-interest, we feel we have every right to protest and to
demand equitable judgment on our merits as American citizens.

But, for the time being, the hate groups won out, and the Japanese
marched into the barbed-wire encampments.

Two and a half years later—in August, 1944—F.B.I. Director, J. Edgar
Hoover, paid them a fine tribute. He said they had "hardly a black
mark” against them; he also said that the "dollar patriots,” "misery
chiselers,” and "horseplay pranksters,” had proved much more of a
problem than Japanese, German and other Axis nationalities and war
prisoners.

Evacuation, if it should come, was to have been the responsibility
of the Department of Justice, and it expected to retain this jurisdiction;
but when the Department counseled against evacuation and gave as
one of the reasons that it did not have sufficient personnel to carry it
out as proposed by Western Defense Command, the Army surprised
everyone by insisting upon taking it over themselves.

The War Department therefore took the dispossessed migrants to
the War Relocation Centers, but left them there in the custody of a
newly created civilian agency, the War Relocation Authority.

The agency’s avowed program was relocation, or resettlement, of
the evacuees, therefore self-liquidation—as Dillon Myer announced
when he took over directorship, his goal was to "work himself out of
a job.”

An excerpt from one of the official WRA reports gives the following
illuminating picture of the personnel:

The Authority was fortunate in having such a stimulating and chal¬
lenging task to do that it consistently attracted a sincere, hard-working,
public-spirited, job-devoted, and frequently imaginative kind of per¬
sonnel. Without people of this type . . . the agency would never have
been able to accomplish its objectives in the allotted time with so little
ultimate cost in human degradation.

They needed to be sensitive enough to understand the state of mind
of the evacuees, some of whom were too bitter and angry at first to
realize that WRA was a friendly agency, designed to help them; and
thick-skinned enough to stand up under constant heckling, maligning,
and bludgeoning from the outside.

[ 181 ]

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

Certain newspapers assigned columnists to stir the American public
to the highest possible degree of indignation against the Japanese in
the centers, and several radio commentators dedicated their careers
to the same purpose for the duration. The clamor increased when it
dawned on the West Coast pressure groups that the WRA did not
share their attitude toward the evacuees and they were enraged when
they learned they intended to release and resettle them instead of
keeping them imprisoned.

There were ugly, sensational headlines regarding some camp dis¬
turbances. The evacuees were blamed for almost every conceivable
wartime shortage; WRA was accused of overfeeding and pampering
them. Committees and subcommittees swooped down without warning
for noisy investigations; J. Parnell Thomas, of New Jersey, set the
stage for the Dies Committee investigation of 1943. A typical character
of this group claimed that every evacuee in the WRA camps was
given five gallons of whisky a month. This investigation, after Mr.
Myers vigorous defense, was allowed to gradually peter out, and
WRA continued with its work of trying to make life behind barbed
wire as decent and tolerable as possible, and to recognize and honor
everyone as an individual.

Their work was completed in the allotted time, and this editorial
from the Washington Post , for March 28, 1946, entitled “J°b Well
Done” reflected the attitude of many of the nation’s newspapers:

The most distasteful of all war jobs, the detention upon mere sus¬
picion and without trial of approximately 110,000 persons of Japanese
ancestry, % of them citizens of the U.S., has now been liquidated. It
was a job made necessary through the decision early in 1942, of General
John De Witt, to exclude all Japanese Americans from the Western
Defense Command. Once the exclusion error was committed, guardian¬
ship of the uprooted Japanese Americans became a Federal responsi¬
bility. They had to be kept in detention centers until they could be
relocated in parts of the country other than the West Coast. The burden
of discharging this unhappy obligation was given to an emergency
agency, the War Relocation Authority, headed at first by Milton Eisen¬
hower, later and through most of its existence by Dillon Myer. It
performed its task with humanity, with efficiency and with a con¬
scientious sense of trusteeship toward the evacuees which made some
amends for the terrible hardship inflicted upon them. All the men
associated in the undertaking, and in particular Mr. Myer, who fought
valiantly and pertinaciously against prejudice for the rights of these

[ 182 ]

Tom Parker

86. A SERIOUS MOMENT FOR A TWENTY-ONE-YEAR-OLD
JAPANESE-AMERICAN

After repeated requests from Japanesk-Americans to be allowed to serve

THEIR COUNTRY IN WORLD WAR II, WHICH HAD KEPT ALL WEST-COASTAL-STATE

persons of Japanese ancestry in detention camps, the opportunity to prove

THEIR LOYALTY WAS FINALLY EXTENDED TO THEM.

MlSUMA YOKOHARI, A RESIDENT OF GlIANADA CENTER, HAS JUST SIGNED VOLUNTARY
ENLISTMENT PAPERS WHICH PUTS HIM INTO A SPECIAL COMBAT UNIT OF THE

United States Army. The enlisting soldier is Sergeant Robert I. Bischoff.

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

unfortunates in his charge, can take pride in a difficult job exceedingly
well done.

Bewildered, hurt, frustrated, we sold our properties. Sometimes for as
little as a few cents on the dollar. Much was given away to friends,
more was wheedled from us by folks we believed to be good neighbors,
but the professional buyer with “cash on the barrel head” got the most
of it. . . . [Excerpt from an editorial in the Heart Mountain Sentinel .]

The majority of those caught in the net were not psychologically
prepared for the added shock of evacuation. Dejected and miserable,
men, women and children crowded together in temporary racetrack
quarters, watching the searchlights sweeping over the black com¬
pounds, wondering what was in store for them.

Meantime, procurers were frantically trying to obtain acutely needed
materials for relocation camps. . . . “Just a moment,” one War Produc¬
tion Board official said to the WRA man, after he had carefully ex¬
plained his needs, “let me be sure I understand you. Are you asking
for these priorities on this scarce material for the benefit of Japs?”

In time, however, all ten of the barracks cities were completed—as
far as they could be completed—and the wanderers moved in. Accom¬
modations were about the same at all the centers; mess halls, laundry,
shower and sanitation facilities were public; living quarters were in
tar-paper-covered barracks whose interiors were of 2 x 4 framework
and rough wood. One electric light bulb dangled from the ceiling of
each room; there were no tables, chairs or other furniture, except iron
bedsteads. The Japanese are renowned for their ability to create order
and beauty out of what is at hand, and that is what thousands of
evacuees began doing right away.

Two years after evacuation, this encouraging note appeared in
Miwako Oanas column, “Mo’s Scratch Pad,” in the Heart Mountain
camp paper:

... [to those] who have never lived within a relocation center, let
me say that it is not the end of everything. People are still capable of
living and laughing and loving and dying. Cherished friendships are
born; unexpected places reveal courage and fortitude,—and faith, to
those who have it, shines on.

Residents discovered also, when they presented themselves for
physical check-ups, that their health compared favorably with that of

[ 184 ]

A LOOK BACK: A LOOK FORWARD

people in normal communities, with one “noteworthy” exception, ac¬
cording to WRA statistics—". . . the rather high incidence of peptic
ulcers at practically all centers—a condition which was most frequently
attributed to the extreme nervous tension . . . and the generally frus¬
trated and unsettled states of their minds.”

When these people, of their own volition, turned to the arts to help
sustain them, they began writing a fine chapter in American history.

Each camp discovered and developed some creative specialty of its
own. Heart Mountain produced beautiful embroideries; Tule Lake
and Topaz made artistic use of shells, because they were situated near
ancient lake beds; Gila, laboriously carved and polished ironwood and
transplanted cactus; Minidoka utilized sagebrush; Arkansas residents
were almost fanatic about kobu; a man in Topaz began dwarfing
greasewood shrubs; Granada made miniature tray landscapes from
desert sand; Manzanar, with its “Childrens Village” of Japanese
orphans, built a small park and stocked it with local birds and animals.

Then there were common denominators running through all of the
camps—furniture, maybe full of knotholes, but good to sit on; cal¬
ligraphy, for fine writing is a passion with the Japanese, and facilities
were available in every center. There were dozens of flower-arranging
classes. And poetry societies. And drama groups—one Christmas Eve,
the Poston Issei performed outdoors and in Japanese, a Tolstoi play,
“Where There Is Love, There God Is.”

There were service flags in many barracks windows; the world now
knows about the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, the famous “Go
For Broke” Regiment, composed entirely of Nisei men. It was the
most decorated unit of its size with 18,143 individual decorations and
7 Presidential citations. The regiments major campaigns were in Italy
and France and there were 9,486 casualties—314 per cent of its original
strength.

In a wartime bulletin issued by the Department of the Interior is a
letter written by a United States serviceman: “I can see what the
Japanese-Americans in our armed forces are fighting and dying for.
They are not only fighting for America but they are fighting for the
right of their families to live side by side with the more fortunate
races that have made our nation the great nation it is today. ... I am
not of Japanese blood but I would be proud to have a transfusion from
one of those boys on the Italian front.”

The service men came back: resettlement became a reality instead

[185]

BEAUTY BEHIND BABBED WIRE

of a dream; WRA dissolved; camp residents became “alumni.” More
than half of them returned to the coastal states; the others, proving
the “ill wind” proverb, found places for themselves all over the coun¬
try, among them the columnist, Miwako Oana, who wrote from New
York: “. . . the color of my skin and the slant of my eyes do not close
doors upon me. . . . Draftsmen are working as draftsmen, engineers* as
engineers, teachers as teachers. Fruit stands are no longer the ultimate
end of every college graduate.”

Summing up the spirit of those behind barbed wire, and their hopes
and dreams for the future, is the following editorial, a worthy docu¬
ment for the Freedom Train. It was written by Roy Takeno, an evacuee
at Manzanar, for the January 1, 1944 issue of the camp newspaper,
the Manzanar Free Press.

A Victorious New Year to You —America

Greetings to you for a Victorious New Year, people of America;
from your kindred 50,000 citizens inside barbed wire fences. We send
you greetings, we who have been lodged by circumstances of war inside
these Relocation Centers in the deserts of the West.

In three months, we will have spent two years in these centers. We
have had time to rationalize our own predicament. The tragic experi¬
ences of evacuation, the untold volume of business losses of the
evacuees, the unwarranted hatreds engendered toward us by some
people because of our hereditary kinship with the Asiatic foe—these we
write off our ledger.

On the other side stands our gratitude to the American people for
sanctioning the effort of this government to look after the welfare of
our children, our aged and the sick. We realize that in other parts of the
world millions of innocent people's lives have been sacrificed in evacua¬
tions and by failures of other governments to protect their war driven
civilians. Here in War Relocation Centers we have found temporary
refuge, we have taken stock of our stake in America and now we are
preparing in a new spirit to re-establish ourselves.

In seeking to resettle and to re-establish ourselves in our respective
trades, businesses and professions, we realize the unwisdom of trying
to force ourselves upon a people who view us with suspicion. We only
seek to join in the drive for Victory. We are prepared to shoulder our
share of further sacrifices demanded of all her citizens by our country.
We will not shirk'. Indeed evacuees who already have left the Reloca¬
tion Projects are contributing to our embattled nation’s war effort
through their initiative, their resourcefulness, their adaptability and

[ 186 ]

Ihkaru Iwasaki

87. GOLD STAR MOTHERS IN RELOCATION CAMPS

These are mothers of American soldiers, in Amache, Colorado, receiving

FROM OUR GOVERNMENT GOLD STARS CONFIRMING THE DEATH OF THEIR SONS IN

service. These scenes were duplicated in every center, for camp mothers

AND FATHERS HAD SONS IN MANY BATTLE SECTORS, THE LARGEST NUMBER WITH THE

442nd Regimental Combat Team in Italy and France.

Every enlisted man in the 442nd was a Nisei. In the Relocation Camps

*ALL COULD HAVE COMFORTABLY SAT OUT THE WAR,” BUT, AS AMERICANS, THEY
VOLUNTEERED—FROM BEHIND BARBED WIRE—TO WRITE A GLORIOUS CHAPTER IN THE
ANNALS OF THEIR COUNTRYS HISTORY.

[ 187 ]

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

their talents. In Europe, in the South Pacific, on every front former
evacuees are today in uniform fighting beside their brother Americans.

We also believe that our country would achieve something of the
meaning of the full use of her available manpower when she encour¬
ages the evacuee tradesmen, merchants, farmers and professional men
to re-establish themselves in their own fields of endeavor in the com¬
munities of their own choice. We ask you, the American people, to try
us on our own merits. We are willing and ready to stand or fall by our
records, realizing that it is one of the inherent characteristics of the
country we love to appraise its people by the contribution they can
make toward the total welfare of the nation.

It is our belief that our country wants to fulfill the obligation to
itself to permit the unhampered restoration of a group of its own people
to their natural and rightful niche in the American scheme of life
through an orderly process of evacuee resettlement. In the ultimate
analysis the citizen evacuees who are behind these barbed wire fences,
through no fault of their own, are not persuaded to resettle by glitter¬
ing promises of job offers. The important consideration is that they be
convinced in their own minds that they are acceptable to American
communities as Americans and that in relocation lies their service to
their country.

We believe that you are earnestly concerned in the process of re¬
vitalizing the American scheme of social structure which recognizes
only aristocracy by intellect and by achievement; not through political,
religious or racial differences. We believe that on this conviction,
America rests her cause in this war.

Now that our eyes are clear again and our hearts are strong again
we look forward as Americans with deepened understanding and firm
conviction to this New Year when Victory shall come to this country
that is yours and mine.

Victory did come, not in 1944 as prophesied, but in the middle of
the next year, 1945. The wish expressed by the young spokesman for
fifty thousand citizens of Japanese ancestry still behind barbed wire—
“to join in the drive for victory”—by them had been granted; no finer
sacrifice was ever made by a minority group than that of the 442nd
Combat Team of Americans of Japanese lineage from Hawaii, the
Relocation Camps and other parts of the mainland.

In the American Relocation Camps were the families, sweethearts,
friends and neighbors of many of the fighting men; some waiting for
the boys to finish the job and come back; others were pushing out in
efforts at relocation. President Roosevelt, in a message to Congress in

[ 188 ]

A LOOK back: a look forward

September, 1943, had promised: “We shall restore to the loyal evacuees
the right to return to the evacuated area as soon as the military situ¬
ation will make such restoration feasible. Americans of Japanese
ancestry have shown that they can and want to accept our institutions
and work loyally with the rest of us, making their own valuable con¬
tribution to the national wealth and well being.”

In the President’s promise was the final defeat of the pressure forces
that had maneuvered the act of evacuation for their own single objec¬
tive “to get the Japs out and keep them out.”

On December 7, 1944, as the President had promised, the ban on
the coastal area was finally lifted. But lifting the ban did not, in itself,
solve resettlement for those who wished to go back to their old homes
and neighbors; there were many impediments and discouragements.
At Hood River, Oregon, members of the local American Legion post
rubbed out the names of the Nisei heroes on the town honor roll; in
Placer County, California, an evacuee’s bam was burned to the ground;
near Fresno and other places, night riders shot into the homes of
newly returned families.

In the Relocation Centers fear began to grip the hearts of those
about ready to leave. Instead of going out in family groups to find
ways of settling—which would have been too much of a strain for the
children—trusted “scouts” were sent out, single men who explored
prospective situations; they came back with both good and bad stories
of how they had been received, and of prospects for beginning over
again. Some residents, encouraged, wrote letters to friends back home,
telling them they would return; but many, fearful of what might be
in store for them in the West, turned their thoughts and eyes inland
toward the East. Scouts and letters were sent into the intermountain
and middle states and some to the eastern seaboard. It was understood
in the camps that if an evacuee tried hard and could not get settled,
he could return to camp to get his bearings, then try again.

Most of the Hood River evacuees owned their own farms.

Their chief problem [reported WRA] was opposition to their return
on the part of some of the inhabitants of the Valley. A vigorous cam¬
paign to scare them away was launched as soon as the West Coast was
opened. Even their friends in Hood River feared for their safety, should
they come back. The pioneers, three Nisei who returned to widely
separated farms in January, 1946, recall their sense of isolation, their
feeling of being in hostile territory. A strange sort of homecoming!

[ 189 ]

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

One Nisei tells of the long, quiet evenings, too long and too quiet, as he
lived alone in the house where he grew up. It helped when a stray dog
joined him. He named the dog “Friend.” It also helped when the man
representing WRA in the Valley called to give him encouragement and
assure him that the agency was doing what it could to improve public
sentiment. Some of the neighbors he had known all his life treated him
all right. . . . After awhile the scare campaign subsided. More neigh¬
bors seemed to accept him. He notified the rest of the family to come
on out of the center. Other scouts reported and other families arrived.

In February, 1946, one man said:

“We are getting along. Some of the orchards are not in very good
shape. They weren’t taken care of right. Everybody is working hard
trying to get them fixed up again. It isn’t the way it used to be though.
The people in the Valley don’t treat us the same as before evacuation.
But it’s a lot better than it was a year ago and is getting better all the
time.”

Incidentally, the dog named “Friend” is still with the family whose
relocation he aided. He is a tiny factor in the adjustment of the Japanese
in Hood River.

To the complete discredit of the ultrapatriotic pressure groups, some
of the above incidents attained nationwide publicity; then from east
to west, the tide began to turn-voices of protest grew firmer, reducing
prejudice, and appealing to reason.

Loyal citizens and officers of the National American Legion Post saw
to it that the names of the Hood River Nisei heroes were painted back
on the honor roll.

Much credit should go to those cities, towns and rural communities
in which citizens* groups were formed to welcome and advise the
evacuees who wished to settle in their neighborhoods. After so many
months of loneliness and sometimes bitterness, these welcoming hands
and friendly voices were indeed heartwarming to the newcomers.

Thousands found new footholds in regions extending from Salt Lake
City to the Atlantic seaboard; in Chicago, the Japanese-American
population rose from a prewar total of about 250 to a postwar 15,000.
At the time of writing, the Japanese American Citizens League esti¬
mates roughly that there are about 125,000 persons of Japanese an¬
cestry in the United States. Of the 110,000 evacuated, about 90,000
returned to the West Coast, and about 20,000 settled eastward. After
redistribution, the population in Denver rose to about 4,000; Salt Lake
City to 3,000; New York, about 3,000. Of those who returned to the

[ 190 ]

Charles Lynn

88. MR, AND MRS. TAKAHASHI OF JEROME, ARKANSAS
In the summer of 1944, when this picture was taken, Mr. and Mrs. Taka-

HASHI WERE MOVED FROM JEROME, ARKANSAS, WHICH WAS THEN BEING CLOSED, TO

another War Relocation Center. At the time, they had five sons serving
in the United States Army: one was at Camp Savage, one at Fort Mc¬
Clellan, two were overseas with the 442nd Combat Team, and one had

JUST BEEN ACCEPTED FOR SERVICE. THEIR ONLY DAUGHTERS HUSBAND WAS ALSO
* IN THE ARMY.

[ 191 ]

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

West Coast, most relocated in cities, since it was difficult to regain
possession of farmlands there.

.. we have taken stock of our stake in America and now we are pre¬
paring in a new spirit to reestablish ourselves.” Signs of this new spirit
have been tangible' and definite. Important gains have been achieved
since the war for this group, largely through the dynamic efforts of
their vigorous organizations, sponsored principally by alert Nisei
workers.

Authoritative center for all information and counsel pertaining to
Japanese-American interests is the Japanese American Citizens League,
which has offices in many cities and towns throughout the United
States. A weekly newspaper, the Pacific Citizen , published at Salt
Lake City, is the official organ of the League, the ablest interpreter
of American life to the Japanese-Americans, and equally successful in
presenting the interests and slants of the Japanese-Americans to other
Americans. The editorials in this publication are among the best in
the field of American journalism. Also under the direction of the
Japanese American Citizens League is an exceptionally fine educa¬
tional service at the nations capital, conducted by the Anti-Discrim¬
ination Committee, under a National Legislation Director and staff.

In hundreds of ways since their release from evacuation centers, the
Nisei have proved their loyalty to the country of their birth, and
the Issei to the country of their choice. Whatever diverse opinions
may have been held in 1942 on the subject of evacuation, one thing is
certain; if we had known our people of Japanese ancestry as well
then as we do now, evacuation would never have taken place.

A great American by choice, who came to us from Germany, a friend
of Lincoln and a general in the Union Army, Carl Schurz, left this
concept of patriotism to his fellow citizens:

My country right or wrong;

If right, to be kept right,

If wrong, to be set right.

When our government, through some act, wrongs a citizen or a
group of its citizens, there is no established way by which it can make
a retraction. But one of the advantages of a democracy such as ours
is that its citizens, individually or collectively, profiting by experience,

[192]

A LOOK BACK: A LOOK FORWARD

can change unjust and unfavorable situations for the better; first, by
admitting mistakes where mistakes were made, and then by doing
whatever they can to prevent its happening again.

Such a process has been going on ever since evacuation. Thousands
of citizens have found ways as individuals and as members of organ¬
izations to help right this wrong.

It is gratifying to know that our Congress, during recent years, has
passed several laws of great benefit to our Japanese-Americans. “But
. . . remember this,” wrote Mike Masaoka, National Director of the
Anti-Discrimination Committee, in the Pacific Citizen : “Not one single
gain was made by those who said: ‘It can’t be done,’ and wandered
away to do nothing. . . . The successes were realized by those . . .
who combined faith and work with determination.”

There are a surprising number of people who still believe that the
evacuation was justified. Their reasons are often a little hazy, because
the event is receding into history, but in general, the arguments fall
into three basic “we had to do it because—” groups.

“We had to do it, because the Japanese Americans sabotaged us at
Pearl Harbor,” say those of one group. Anyone within reach of a public
library could quickly inform himself on this point. Several years ago,
the Department of Justice issued a public statement, saying, “There
was no sabotage by either American or Hawaiian Japanese at Pearl
Harbor before December 7, on December 7, or after December 7.”

“We had to do it, because of the fifth-column Japanese on our West
Coast, waiting to join enemy landing parties,” says another. The F.B.I.
has cleared this one too by a report that not one conviction of espi¬
onage or sabotage on the part of any Japanese-American citizen has
ever been obtained.

Members of the third group say, “We had to do it to protect the
Japanese.” If this statement were true, it would be the most shocking
indictment possible of our democracy.

A nation spends millions of dollars to set in motion gigantic, un¬
wieldy machinery for the unprecedented task of separating more than
one hundred thousand peaceful and industrious persons from their
homes and their livelihoods, then herds them into ten specially con¬
structed barracks cities, surrounded by barbed wire. All this enormous
expense, waste of manpower through enforced idleness, betrayal of
constitutional rights, spreading of heart-break and confusion—for what?

[193]

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

According to this group, to protect 110,000 persons of Japanese
ancestry from a few hundred lawless, greedy and ruthless hoodlums,
bent on wresting temporary control of a few towns and communities.

Wouldn't it have been better and cheaper and more just to have
protected the law-abiding Japanese by putting the mob element, the
lawbreakers, behind barbed wire?

Sometimes we hear a fourth “we had to do it,” a last-stand alibi,
which runs something like this: “Granting that most of the things we
were told about the Japanese were false, and granting that it was
proved that there were no disloyal Japanese-American citizens in the
area—what with the shock of the war with Japan, the extreme tension
and fear of our people, and our state of unpreparedness, was there
any other course open for us than to declare a ‘military necessity,' and
to evacuate these people as a matter of ‘public safety?”

Hawaii, with many times these dangers threatening her, gave the
answer to that question. Hawaii, denying that race conditioned al¬
legiance, did not evacuate her citizens of Japanese ancestry, but she
weathered the storm successfully, with courage, dignity and honor.

The Japanese population in our evacuated coastal area was about
1 per cent of the entire coastal population; in Hawaii, it was more
than 37 per cent. Evacuation was considered necessary on the West
Coast because of the possibilities of enemy attack; Hawaii was fifteen
hundred miles closer to the center of the enemy operations, but the
military there did not, at any time, consider that mass evacuation was a
“military necessity.”

Hawaii's sense of balance between the civil and military government
served her well in this time of crisis. It was, however, a devotion to
democracy by those in control which caused Hawaii to retain for all
her citizens their rights according to the Constitution of the United
States, and by doing so, insuring, during the entire war period, their
fullest support for the government. The military governors recognized
and respected the principle that every resident of the islands, every
individual, was to be considered loyal, unless there was evidence of
disloyalty, in which case an accused person would have his hearing
and his day in court.

Because of her uncluttered thinking, and her respect for the rights
of all her citizens, regardless of ancestry, Hawaii has earned the grati¬
tude of free people everywhere.

[ 194 ]

John /), Si hr if

A NONBOTANICAL ROSEBUSH

An aspiring but hesitant craftsman would take heart at this beautifully

CONSTRUCTED YELLOW ROSE BUSH ON LEARNING THAT IT WAS DONE BY A MAN WHO
NEVER BEFORE HAD TRIED TO MAKE ANYTHING RESEMBLING NATURE OR AN OBJECT
OF ART WITH HIS HANDS. BlJT, ADMIRING A ROSE BUSH IN HIS NEIGHBORS VUU>, IIE
DECIDED TO HAVE ONE OF HIS OWN.

For THE BUDS AND BLOSSOMS HE USED LAKE SHELLS, CAREFULLY SELECTED, WHICH
HE TINTED IN A VARIETY OF SHADES. TlIE LEAVES WERE CUT FROM THIN CLOTH AND
STIFFENED WITH GLUE, AND THE SCORES OF THORNS WERE MADE BY HAND AND
ATTACHED TO THE BRANCHES.

A LOOK BACK; A LOOK FORWARD

In a time of great stress, she remained faithful to her motto:

Righteousness Perpetuates the Life of the Land.

Evacuation and resettlement will always be the two great insepara¬
ble elements in this American epic, now taking its place in history.
Their full significance can be measured only in terms of individual
lives, but, as a part of the human balance, certain truths can by now
be clearly discerned: No group of comparable size in our population
has ever before established in so short a time a firmer place in our
economy and our culture, and in the minds and hearts of many of
our people; no group, large or small, in fighting for its own, has been
more consistent in defending the rights that have come to us through
our founding fathers and the preservers of our liberties; and finally,
no group has ever given us a clearer glimpse of how Western life and
culture might be enriched and made more secure, by a larger measure
of beauty in our daily living.

[ 195 ]

ANNOTATED SELECTIVE BIBLIOGRAPHY ON
JAPANESE AMERICANS

Materials published during and after World War ll

Background

Laviolette, Forrest Emmanuel, Americans of Japanese Ancestry; a Study
of Assimilation in the American Community. Canadian Institute of Interna¬
tional Affairs, 1945. 185 p.

Centered around the family and community life of Japanese Americans.
Problems resulting from a biracial, bicultural milieu in which racial
discrimination is a compelling fact of life are described in summary and
through many examples. Bibliography lists unpublished theses and
papers.

McWilliams, Carey, Prejudice. Japanese-Americans, Symbol of Racial In¬
tolerance. Little, Brown, 1944. 337 p.

Carefully documented account by a lawyer and noted specialist on
minorities. The history of the Japanese-Americans is traced from the
first immigrants to the formation of the Relocation Centers. Special
emphasis on racial discrimination brought on by World War II.

Smith, Elmer R., A Discussion on the Degree of Assimilation among Persons
of Japanese Ancestry in the United States. Processed, 1949.

Report, with appendix, prepared for the Senate subcommittee consider¬
ing legislation on naturalization of persons of Japanese ancestry, by a
Utah University professor of anthropology. Valuable data and statistics
on culture, social activities, religion, employment, crime, and inter¬
marriage. Includes statements by prominent Americans and West Coast
organizations favoring naturalization.

Evacuation

BOOKS

Adams, Ansel, Born Free and Equal. U.S. Camera, 1944. 112 p.

Expert photographic.record of Japanese-American life at the Manzanar
Relocation Center, Inyo County, California. Cogent commentary on
the background, attitudes and activities of the people in the group
adjusting to government supervision.

Grodzins, Morton, Americans Betrayed. University of Chicago Press, 1949.
445 p.

Detailed study of the decision to evacuate Japanese-Americans from
the Pacific coast. Covers regional pressures, methods of forming national
policy and role of the military men and the Supreme Court. A socio-

[197]

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

logical problem handled with imaginative intelligence. Bibliographical
note.

Leighton, Alexander H., The Governing of Men. Princeton University
Press, 1945. 404 p.

Sociological report on an incident in a Relocation Center in Arizona,
by a psychiatrist and social anthropologist. A strike of the evacuees
against the administration was sparked by the arrest of two men
charged with assault. From this event the author draws conclusions
on "the governing of men” as a social phenomenon.

Okubo, Min6, Citizen 13660. Columbia University Press, 1946. 209 p.

Diary of a Nisei girl at the Tanforan Assembly Center and the Topaz
Relocation Center in Utah. Admirable black-and-white drawings and
factual commentary on Japanese-American dispossession and enforced
concentration.

Thomas, Dorothy Swaine and Nishimoto, Richard S., The Spoilage. Uni¬
versity of California Press, 1947. 388 p.

Factual record documenting the causes that produced the group of
Japanese-Americans classified as disloyal and sent to the Tule Lake
Center. Concrete in detail and amply documented.

PAMPHLETS

Fortune, The Displaced Japanese-Americans. American Council on Public
Affairs, 1944. 20 p.

Critical of evacuation and the doctrine of "protective custody.” Draw¬
ings by Mine Okubo. Originally published in Fortune Magazine, April,
1944, under the title, Issei, Nisei and Kibei.

Gefvert, Ruth Hunt, American Refugees; Outline of a Unit of Study about
Japanese-Americans. American Friends Service Committee, 1943. 59 p.

Written to help children understand a minority group but useful to
adults. Historical background, outstanding Americans of Japanese
ancestry, stories about Japanese-Americans, help rendered by the
Friends. Bibliography. Illustrated.

Japanese American Citizens League, Minutes. Japanese American Citi¬
zens League, special emergency national conference, November 17-24, 1942,
Salt Lake City, Utah. Processed, 1943. 120 p.

The conference minutes convey a vivid insight into the wartime diffi¬
culties of the Japanese-Americans and their efforts to find an adjustment.

McWilliams, Carey, What About Our Japanese Americans? American
Council, Institute of Pacific Relations, c.1944. 31 p. # .

Short precursor to the author s book, Prejudice. Emphasis on evacuation
and relocation. Bibliography.

Matsumoto, Torn, Beyond Prejudice; a Story of the Church and Japanese
Americans. Friendship Press, 1946. 145 p.

Studies the role of the churches in mitigating the evacuation problems
on a nationwide scale. The author, himself temporarily interned, partici¬
pated actively in these efforts. Reading references.

[ 198 ]

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Thomas, Norman, Democracy and Japanese Americans. The Post War
World Council, 1942. 39 p.

The Socialist leader states that “the greatest victim of our procedure
against the Japanese is not the Japanese themselves; it is our whole
concept of liberty, our standard of justice.”

WAR RECORD

442nd Combat Team, The Album , 1943.

Collection of photographs on the training and social life of the Japanese
American soldiers in United States camps. Brief introduction.

442nd Combat Team, The Story of the 442nd Combat Team. MTOUSA,
Information-Education Section, 1945. 43 p.

Combat experiences of the 442nd infantry regiment, the 522nd field
artillery battalion and 232nd combat engineer company. Maps and
photographs.

Shirey, Orville, Americans; the Story of the 442nd Combat Team. Infantry
Journal Press, 1946. 153 p.

Records the evolution of the team into a fighting unit and brings out
individual deeds of heroism in Italy and France. Lists all soldiers,
awards, honors and war actions. Photographs, maps, drawings.

LEGAL ASPECTS

Japanese American Citizens League, The Case for the Nisei. 1944. 143 p.
Argument submitted to the U.S. Supreme Court attacking the consti¬
tutionality of the West Coast military exclusion order. Contains the
Supreme Court decisions and dissenting opinions on two convictions
under the order, the Endo and the Korematsu cases.

Konvitz, Milton R., The Alien and the Asiatic in American Law. Cornell
University Press, 1946. 299 p.

Study of Supreme Court decisions on matters relating to the alien and
the American citizen of Asiatic extraction. Bibliography.

REGIONAL STUDIES: UNITED STATES, HAWAII, CANADA
Bloom, Leonard, A controlled attitude-tension survey. University of Cali¬
fornia Press, 1948. P. 25-47. (University of California Publications in culture
and society, v. 1 no. 2)

What were the attitudes directed toward Japanese Americans at the
time of their resettlement in three ecologically distinct areas of Los
Angeles in September, 1945? Ample statistics.

Laviolette, Forrest Emmanuel, The Canadian Japanese and World War 11.
University of Toronto Press, 1948. 332 p.

The first definitive account of wartime handling of Japanese in Canada.
Evacuation, involving almost all 21,000 persons of Japanese descent,
followed the U.S. pattern, but treatment was harsher. Bibliography.

Lind, Andrew W., Hawaits Japanese. Princeton University Press, 1946.
264 p.

• History of the Japanese in Hawaii stressing their status during the war
years, considered by the author “a significant experiment in democracy.”

[199]

BEAUTY BEHIND BARBED WIRE

Minnesota. Governor’s Interracial Commission, The Oriental in Minnesota,
Minnesota Interracial Commission, 1949. 63 p.

Relocation, housing, education, employment and integration of Japanese
Americans are discussed with similar problems of Chinese and Filipinos.
Sixth report of a series on racial and religious situations in the state.
Survey Committee, A Social Study of the Japanese Population in the
Greater New York Area. 1942. 29 p.

Vital statistics, socio-economic-cultural conditions in 1942, compiled
by the New York church committee for Japanese work and seven
Japanese Christian organizations.

Stevens, Beatrice, Free and Equal? The Japanese Americans in Oregon.
Processed, 1945. 42 p.

A unit of work for secondary schools, prepared for the Workshop on
Intercultural Education. Detailed information on forces furthering
Japanese-American integration and those fostering anti-Japanese senti¬
ment. Lists achievements of Japanese-Americans. Bibliography.

RESETTLEMENT

Bloom, Leonard and Riemer, Ruth, Removal and Return. University of
Los Angeles Press, 1949. 259 p.

Information on the occupational and economic status of Japanese
Americans before and after evacuation from the West Coast. Based on
intensive study of Los Angeles County, which in 1940 was the home
of 30 per cent of all Japanese-Americans in the U.S. Bibliography.
Guidebook. Chicago Publishing Corporation, 1949.

Richly illustrated annual on the adjustment of Japanese-Americans,
written by members of the group. The 1949 volume concentrates on
the Chicago scene; 1950 discusses various sections of U.S., including
Hawaii; 1951 is exclusively pictorial. Includes lists of addresses of
Japanese-Americans in U.S. and Canada.

O’Brien, Robert W., The College Nisei. Pacific Books, 1950. 148 p.

Official history of the National Japanese American Student Relocation
Council. Traces the resettlement of 5,000 students. Bibliography.
Smith, Bradford, Americans from Japan. Lippincott, 1948. 409 p.

Background facts of Japanese history, with a survey of the special
problems posed by Japanese segregation in this country. Scholarly and
informative study of Nisei social and family life, education, culture and
contributions to World War II. Bibliography. Illustrated.

BIOGRAPHY

Martin, Ralph G., Boy from Nebraska. Harper, 1946. 208 p.

Ben Kuroki, the Nisei farm boy from Nebraska, flies 25 missions in
Europe and 28 in the Pacific and becomes a war hero. But at home he
returns to a life of insults and humiliations. He decides to devote him¬
self to fighting the cause of the Nisei.

Matsumoto, Toru and Lerrigo, Marion Olive, A Brother Is a Stranger.
John Day, 1946. 318 p.

Autobiography of a Japanese Christian who felt the heavy hand of the

[ 200 ]

BIBLIOGRAPHY

police in Japan before the war, came to America and graduated from
Union Theological Seminary. Temporarily interned, he later worked
on the Committee on Resettlement of Japanese-Americans.

GOVERNMENT PUBLICATIONS

Immigration and Naturalization Committee (House, 80:2). Hearings
before the Subcommittee on Immigration, on H.R. 5004, April 19 and 21,
Serial No. 18. Government Printing Office, 1949.

Evidence submitted in favor of the Judd Bill for equality in naturaliza¬
tion and immigration aiming to permit Issei parents to become U.S.
citizens.

National Defense Migration, Select Committee investigating (House,
77:2). Interstate Migration. Hearings before the Select Committee, pursuant
to H.R. 113. Government Printing Office, 1942. p. 10965-11945.

Parts 29 to 31 cover the hearings in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Port¬
land and Seattle regarding removal of Japanese-Americans, held by the
Tolan Committee, February and March, 1942.

National Defense Migration, Select Committee investigating (House
77:2). Interstate Migration. Fourth Interim Report. Government Printing
Office, 1942. 360 p.

Statements and official orders concerning Japanese-American removal;
data on characteristics of the group and the effect of their evacuation
on their status. Maps.

War Relocation Authority, Community Analysis Report, no. 1-13. Proc¬
essed, 1942-1945.

Aspects of Japanese American life are analyzed and changes brought
about by evacuation, Relocation Centers and return to the old homes
are noted.

-, Impounded People; Japanese Americans in the Relocation Centers.

1946. 239 p.

Analytical study of the evacuees’ experiences, written with sympathy
and understanding. Many quotations from the internees and staff
members.

-, The Evacuated People, a Quantitative Description. 1946. 200 p.

-, The Relocation Program. 1946. 105 p.

-, Wartime Exile; the Exclusion of the Japanese Americans from the

West Coast. 1946. 167 p.

-, WRA, a Story of Human Conservation. 1946. 212 p.

All printed by the Government Printing Office. Collectively, these
documents give an exhaustive picture of the work of the government
agency responsible for the evacuees and their problems.

War Agency Liquidation Unit, People in Motion; the Postwar Adjustment
of the Evacuated Japanese Americans. Government Printing Office, 1947.
270 p.

Twelve experts of the War Relocation Authority studied Japanese
American problems in relocation, public acceptance, economic, social
and housing adjustment and resettlement. Largely written in the words

[ 201 ]

BEAUTY BEHIND BABBED WIRE

of the people interviewed. Bibliography lists ten reports of the WRA.
References to articles, legal briefs, unpublished theses and government
reports.

MAGAZINE ARTICLES

Sophie Toriumi and D. Toriumi, “Were Americans Again.” Survey Graphic
34:325-7, July, 1945.

Eugene V. Rostow, “Our Worst Wartime Mistake.” Harpers Magazine
191:193-201, September, 1945.

Galen M. Fisher, “Justice for the Evacuees.” Christian Century 62:1198-9,
October 24, 1945.

Ben Kuroki, “War Isn’t Over at Home.” Readers Digest, January, 1946.
Robert C. L. George, “Our Japanese Americans Now.” Survey Midmonthly
82:291-4, November, 1946.

Galen M. Fisher, “Our Debt to the Japanese Evacuees.” Christian Century
63:683-5, May 29,1946.

“Nisei Come Home,” resettlement issue. Pacific Citizen, December 21, 1946.
Elmer R. Smith, “Race Prejudice in Naturalization.” Pacific Citizen, May
10, 1947.

E. W. Derrick, “Effects of Evacuation on Japanese American Youth.”
School Review 55:356-62, June, 1947.

Henry Tani, “The Nisei Since Pearl Harbor.” Pacific Spectator, 1947.
George G. Olshausen, “Experiment at Seabrook Farms; Frozen Food Com¬
pany Employing Released Japanese Americans and Japanese Internees.”
Far Eastern Survey 16:200-1, September 24, 1947.

Richard J. Walsh, “For Equality in Naturalization.” Common Ground 7:4,
Summer, 1947.

Bradford Smith, “The Great American Swindle.” Common Ground 7:2,
Winter, 1947.

E. Sasaki, “I Was Relocated; a Nisei’s Americanism Was Tempered in the
Heat of War.” Scholastic 50:42, May 19, 1947.

M. Hornaday, “Nisei Return.” Christian Science Monitor Magazine, p. 3,
September 13, 1947.

Our Own DP Problem. Social Service Review 21:390, September, 1947.

L. Brown, “Transitional Adjustments of Japanese American Families to
Relocation.” American Sociological Review 12:201-9, April, 1947.

W. Brown, “About George Iganaki.” Rotarian 72:25, February, 1948.

V. Boesen, “Nisei Come Home.” New Republic 118:16-19, April 26, 1948.
Elmer R. Smith, “The Japanese in Utah.” Utah Humanities Review, p. 129-
144, p. 208-230, April, July, 1948.

Bradford Smith, “Nisei Discover America; Chicago Opens Its Arms.”
Reader's Digest 52:14-16, February, 1948.

Roger Baldwin, “Nisei in Japan.” Common Ground 8:4, Summer, 1948.
Milton R. Konvitz, “California Japanese Fishing Case.” Common Ground
8:4, Summer, 1948.

“Slow Justice for Japanese Americans.” Christian Century, May 19, 1948.

[ 202 ]

BIBLIOGRAPHY

"Will Our Nisei Get Justice?” Christian Century 65:268-9, March 3, 1948.
Elmer R. Smith, "Nisei Comes of Age.” Nisei Vue , no. 2, 1948.

"Belated Justice; Japanese American Renunciation of Citizenship Ruled
Invalid.” Christian Century 66:1289, September 28, 1949.

Robert M. Cullum, "Japanese American Audit 1948.” Common Ground
9:2, Winter, 1949.

Helen Cracraft Siler, "Japanese Are Back.” Advance , July, 1949.

"More Signs of Recovery from War Hysteria.” Christian Century 66:547,
May 4, 1949.

E. R. Smith, "Resettlement of Japanese Americans.” Far Eastern Survey
18:117-8, May 18, 1949.

Alfred Steinberg, "Washingtons Most Successful Lobbyist.” Readers
Digest 53:125-9, May, 1949.

"Who Is an American? The College Experiences of Relocated Japanese
American Students.” School and Society 70:180-3, September 17, 1949.

J. Also, "One of the Rest.” Time 55:76, March 13, 1950.

"Victory for Sei Fujii.” Newsweek , p. 31, May 8, 1950.

Hachiro Yuasa, "The Japanese Americans Today.” New Leader 33:16-18,
September 16, 1950.

Ernest Maass, "An American Revolution.” Kiwanis Magazine 36:31-33,
February, 1951.

JAPANESE-AMERICAN PUBLICATIONS IN
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE
Crossroads. Daily. Los Angeles.

Pacific Citizen. Weekly. Salt Lake City.

Scene , the Pictorial Magazine. Monthly. Chicago.

BIBLIOGRAPHIES

Chicago University. Committee on Education, Training and Research.
Inventory of Research in Racial and Cultural Relations. Published quarterly,
in co-operation with the American Council on Race Relations.

Includes abstracts of publications on Japanese American sociology.
United States. War Relocation Authority. Bibliography of Japanese in
America. Processed, 1943.

In three parts, dealing with publications on Japanese-Americans, Japa¬
nese and the War Relocation Authority that appeared between January,
1941, and July, 1943. Covers magazines, books, pamphlets, newspapers,
relocation center publications, manuscripts and bibliographies.

United States. War Relocation Authority. Community Analysis Report, no.
14-19, Annotated Bibliography of the Community Analysis Section. Proc¬
essed, 1945-1946.

Compiled by Joan Ishiyama, these reports list the trend reports pre¬
pared by community analysts in seven Relocation Centers and at the
Tule Lake Center during most of 1944 and 1945. Aspects of life of
greatest interest to the evacuees are stressed.

[ 203 ]

INDEX

Abe family “sitting room," 36-37
Akimato, Mrs., rug weaver, 66-67
Allen, Maud Rex, 132
Amache (or Granada), Colorado, Relo¬
cation Center, 12-13, 14-15, 16-17,
18-19, 46-47, 54-55, 62-63, 88-89,
96-97, 122-123, 124-125, 128-129,
130,166, 176,179,183, 185, 187, 191
American Legion, 140-141, 190; Hood
River chapter, 189

Americans Betrayed , Morton Crodzins,
180

Ando, Mr., wood carver, 12-13
Anesaki, M., quotation from, vi
Anti-Discrimination Committee, 192,193
Architectural improvements made in
camps, 52-53, 166-167, 171
Armor, Japanese, for theatre, 78-79
Art as “the province of every human
being, 0 vi

Art in the daily life of the Japanese
people, vi, 116

Artist's Letters from Japan, An, John
La Farge, 18

Assembly centers, 5, 96, 142, 146, 156,
176, 184

Audsley, George, 118, 162

Barracks, descriptions of, 26, 54, 55,
167, 184

Beauty: necessity in daily life, vi
(Yanagi); Japanese sensitivity to, vi
(Anon)

Beauty in Japan, Samuel Wainwright,
80, 160, 170

Binyon, Laurence, 20, 32, 90
Bird taming, 84-85
Bischoff, Sgt. R., 183
Bon-kei, 16-17, 18-19, 88-89
Bon Odori: see Festival
Book of Tea, The, K. Okakura, 112
Boys' Day: see Festival
Brinkley, Capt. Frank, 108, 110, 134,
144, 150

Buddhism, 40. See also Festival
Buddhist Church in camp, 124, 126,
136-137

Buddhist house temple, 40-41, 126-127

Calligraphy: 20-21, 60-61, 110-111,
144-145, 148-149, 152-153, 164-165,
185; “in every center," 20-21
Canes, 72-73
Cart (handcart), 30-31
Ceramics, 46-47
Chamberlain, Prof. B. H., 120
Cha-no-yu: see Tea ceremonial
Children: in camp, 74, 84, 98, 132-133,
185; training of in Japan, vi, 102,
132. See also Festivals
Christmas in camp, 126
Chrysanthemums, 150-151, 152-153
Church work in camps, 126
Citizen 13360, Mine Okubo, 142
Classes, enthusiasm for in camps, 16,
42, 48, 136, 160-161
Columbia University, 138
Conder, Josiah, 58

Craft of the Japanese Sculptor, The,
Langdon Warner, 130

Dance: in Japan, 124. See also Festivals
dc Garis, Frederic, 102, 112
De Witt, Gen. John L., 175, 182
Dies Committee investigations, 182
Dimon, E., activity supervisor, 136
Dolls: in camp, 102-103; doll memorial
service in Japan, 102
Drama: see Theatre
Drawings, sketches and illustrations of
camp life, 64, 142-143
Drum Mountains Meteorite, bulletin,
E. P. Henderson and S. H. Perry, 156
Dwarf trees, 90

Eaton, Martha, xiv
Eisenhower, Milton, 182
Embroidery: supremacy in Japan, 70,
118; in camps, frontispiece, 4, 42-43,
70-71, 118-119; popularity, 42, 70
Encyclopaedia Britannica, quote, 38
Eto, Mrs., art supervisor, 136
Evacuation; process, 5, 7, 175, 181;
injustice of, 176-178, 193-194; atti¬
tude of public toward, 180, 193-194
Executive Order 9066, 177
Exhibitions in camps, 4, 16, 22, 35, 42,
60-61, 68, 71, 88-89, 96-97, 128,148-
149, 152-153, 154-155

Cactus, transplanted, 56-57

[ 205 ]

INDEX

Fahs, Charles, xiv

Farming, Japanese know-how, 160, 180
Faure, Elie, 18

Federal Bureau of Investigation, 181,
193

Festivals in camps: 128-129, 132; Bud¬
dhist dance festival (Bon Odori),
122-123, 124-125, Buddhist festivals
“joyous,” 40; children’s festivals: 133,
Boys* Day, 164-165, Girls’ Day, 102-
103; festivals in Japan, 132, O-Bon,
or Feast of Lanterns (Buddhist), 122,
Laughing Festival of Wasa, 132
Fire Tools, 100-101
Flower and Plant arranging: “in every
camp,” 58-59; classes in, 58-59, 136-
137, 148-149, 185; theory of, 58, 82,
108, 160; merits attributed to, 58;
native plants: branches, 88-89, cat¬
tails, 108-109, juniper, 82-83, oak
leaves, 22-23, sagebrush, 34-35
Flower containers, 88-89, 105-106, 128-
129; color plate, opposite 172
Flowers and plants: artificial, 46-47,
116-117, 128-129; color plate, op¬
posite 172; pressed specimens, 72
Fossils, 48-49

Four hundred forty-second Regimental
Combat Team, 185, 187-188, 191
Friends Service Committee, 50
Fruit and vegetable arrangement, 160-
161

Fugita, Izami, wood carver, 12-13
Fukami, Mr., stage director, 78-79, 80-
81

Fukudi, Mr., gardener, 24-25
Furniture making, 54-55, 140-141, 168,
185; “star and crescent” cabinet, 104-
105; ancient go table, 134

Greasewood, uses found for, 72, 90
Grodzins, Morton, 180
Gunther, John, 178

Handicrafts “speak of man’s soul,” vi
Harada, Jiro, Imperial Household Mu¬
seums of Japan, 38
Harper and Brothers, xiv
Hawaii and her Japanese during World
War II, 188, 193, 194
Heart Mountain, Wyoming, Relocation
Center, frontispiece, 4, 32, 42, 46,
64-65, 70, 82-83, 100-101, 130, 138-
139, 140-141, 144-145, 164-165, 176,
185

Heart Mountain Sentinel , 184
Henderson, Prof. Harold, xvi
Henri, Robert, vi
Higashida, Mr., craftsman, 26-27
Hirahara, Mrs., teacher, 22-23, 148
History of Art, Elie Faure, 18
History of Japan, Capt. Frank Brinkley,
144

History of the Japanese People, F.

Brinkley and Baron D. Kikuchi, 110
Hood River incident, 189-190
Hoover, J. Edgar, 181

Ikebana, see Flower and plant arrang¬
ing

Imafugi, Mr., craftsman, 140-141
Imura, S., craftsman, 100
Ink, grinding of, 20, 46, 49, 164
Inkstones, 46-47, 48-49, 164-165
Inouye, Mrs. K., shell worker, 44
Inside U.S.A., John Gunther, 178
Interior decoration, see Rooms in camps
Ishigo, Mrs. Estelle, painter, 64-65
Ishii, Mr., tree dwarfing expert, 90

Gardens, xi, 24-25, 50-51, 166, 168-169,
170-171; cactus garden, 56-57; rock
arden, 92-93, 94-95; Victory gar-
ens, 160; garden pools, 24, 74-75,
92-93, 94; hedges and vines, 24, 41-
42, 52-53, 166; in Japan, 170
Gila River, Arizona, Relocation Center,
10, 28, 30-31, 32-33, 56-57, 114-115,
166-167, 176, 185
Gill, Eric, quotation from, vi
Girls* Day: See Festivals
Go, game of, 134-135
“Go For Broke” Regiment, see Four
Hundred Forty-second Regiment
Gold Star Mothers, 187
Granada: see Amache

Japanalia, reference book, 82

Japanese, national characteristic of mak¬
ing the most of what they have, 3, 4,
52, 144, 145, 170

Japanese American Citizens League,
180, 190, 192

Japanese Art Motives, Maud R. Allen,
132

Japan Society, xiv

Jerome, Arkansas, Relocation Center, 4,
10, 57-58, 168-169, 170-171, 176,191

Jewelry, see Lapidary arts

Jinriksha Days, K. Scidmore, 118
ohnson, Olive Boe, xiv
oint Immigration Committee, 178

Kaneko, Bobby, parader, 132-133
[ 206 ]

INDEX

Katsuki, Mrs., embroiderer, 70-71
Keramic Art of Japan, George Audsley,
162

Kioke, Dr., of Minidoka, 72-73
Kobu (natural wood growths), 10-11,
32-33, 106-107, 114-115, 154-155
Kogita, Mr., gardener, 92-93, 94-95
Kusuda, family name plate, 26-27

La Farge, John, 18

Lapidary work, 114-115; color plate,
opposite 174

Laundry and bathhouse, 142-143; as
aids to gardens, 92-93
Ledoux, Louis, xvi
Lee, Miss Adeline, teacher, 67
Libraries and literature in camps, 138

Manners, classes in good, 112
Manzanar, California, Relocation Center,
46-47, 52-53, 118-119, 152-153, 164-
165, 176, 185, 186
Manzanar Free Press, 186
Masaoka, Mike, 193
Matsunaga, Mrs., gardener, 168
Meteorite found by residents, 156
Miniature landscapes, see Bon-Kei
Minidoka, Idaho, Relocation Center, 34-
35, 36-37, 38-39, 40-41, 68-69, 72-
73, 76-77, 86-87, 90-91, 92-93, 94-
95, 110, 130, 162, 176, 185
Music: in camps, 64, 80; from rain, 8;

musical instruments, 80-81
Myer, Dillon, 3, 182

Nagahama, Mr., embroidery teacher,
frontispiece, 42
Name plates, 26-27

National Geographic, color plates used,
28

Pacific Citizen, 192, 193
Painting in camps, 46, 62-63, 64-65,
146-147, 154-155, 156-157, 158
Paper crafts, 100, 102-103, 120-121,
164-165; for theatre productions, 78-
79, 80-81. See also 1 lowers, artificial
Poetry: in camps, 36, 72, 110, 144, 185;

tradition in Japan, 8, 110, 144, 164
Poston, Arizona, Relocation Center, 4,
28-29, 52-53, 74-75, 130, 158-159,
176

Pottery, see Ceramics
Pressure groups, anti-Japanese, 178-181,
182, 189

Public Law 503, 177

Pyrography: see Wood, smoked pieces

Quilt, Southern Highlands “Star and
Crescent” piece, 104

“Relocation” centers: why so named,
175; early days, 176, 184
Resettlement, 185-186, 189-190, 192,
195

Rockefeller Foundation, xiv
Rohwer, Arkansas, Relocation Center,
10, 20-21, 22-23, 46, 50-51, 58-59,
60-61, 70-71, 78-79, 80-81, 98-99,
100-101, 102-103, 104-105, 108-109,
114-115, 120-121, 126-127, 130-131,
146-147, 148-149, 150-151, 154-155,
160-161, 168; color plate, opposite
172; 176

Rooms in barracks transformed, 36-37,
54-55, 140-141
Roosevelt, Eleanor, xi, xii
Roosevelt, Franklin Delano, 175, 188-
189

Rugs, 66-67

Nature, love of Japanese for, vi, 18, 40

New Year editorial to American people, Sadayuki, Mr., kobu collector, 10
186-187 Sagawa, Mrs., doll maker, 102

Ninomiya, Mrs., artist, 16-17; color Sagebrush, uses found for, 34-35, 72,
plate, opposite 172 90

Nishimoto, Y., co-discoverer of meteor- Sand sculpture: see Bon-kei
ite, 156 Sasabuchi, Mrs., and son Dennis, 179

Niva, H., bird tamer, 84-85 Schurz, Carl, 192

Scidmore, Katherine, 118

Oana, Miwako, columnist, 184-185 Semiprecious stones: see Stones

Obata, Chiura, painter, teacher, 156-157 Sewing, knitting and crocheting in
O-Bon (Feast of Lanterns), see Festivals camps, 148

Okakura, Kaku?o, 112 Shell work, 10-11, 44-45, 110-111; color

Okubo, Mine, artist, 134, 142-143 plate, opposite 196

Oliphant, Laurence, 102 Snowflakes regarded as blossoms, 22

Ornamental Arts of Japan, George Slate: see Stone
Audsley, 118 Smithsonian Institution, 156

Ornamental writing, see Calligraphy Society for Japanese Studies, xiv

[ 207 ]

INDEX

Spirit of Man in Asian Art, Laurence
Binyon, 32, 90
Stevens, Dr. David, xiv
Stone: garden lanterns, 56-57, 93; na¬
ture-carved rabbit, 38; small painted
stones, 86-87; rare stones as enjoyed
in Japan, 38; semiprecious stones,
114-115; color plate, opposite 174;
slate, 48; slate carving, 46-47, 48-49,
164-165

Sugimoto, Henry, painter, 146-147
Suzuki, Y., teacher of wood carving, 12

Takahashi, Mr. and Mrs., parents of
five servicemen, 191
Takamura, A., painter of stones, 86-87
Takeno, Roy, editor, 186
Tanaka, I., intarsia worker, 14, 158-159
Tasseled chenille and paper decorations,
164-165

Tea ceremonial, 112-113
Theory of Japanese Flower Arranging ,
Josiah Conder, 58

Theatre: activities in camps, 78-79, 80-
81, 185; customs in Japan, 80
Things Japanese, B. H. Chamberlain,
120

Thomas, J. Parnell, 182
Tools, homemade, 12, 88, 104
Topaz, Utah, Relocation Center, 10-11,
44, 46, 48, 52, 84-85, 90, 114, 130,
134, 138-139, 142-143, 146, 156-157,
164; color plate, opposite 174; 176,
185

Toys: dolls, 102-103; hobby horse, OS-
99; paper fish, 164-165
Trays, 16-17, 19, 88-89, 149, 158-159
Tray gardens: see Bon-kei
Trees: attitude toward in Japan, 32; as
source for kobus , 10, 32-33, 114; as
source for playground equipment, 98-
99; dwarfed, 90; transplanted in
camps, 166

Trek, Topaz camp publication, 143-144,
146

Tsubouchi, Mrs., tsumami worker, and
daughter, 120-121
Tsunekawa, Mr., florist, 150-151
Tsurioka, K., painter, designer, 158-159
Tule Lake, California Relocation Center,
10-11, 44-45, 110, 112, 116, 132-133,
136-137, 176, 185

Ujihara, A., co-discoverer of meteorite,
156

United States: Army, 175-176, 183;
Congress, 178, 193; Constitution, 177,
194; Fourteenth Amendment, 177;
Department of Agriculture, 180; De¬
partment of the Interior, 185; Depart¬
ment of Justice, 178, 181; War De¬
partment, 178

Usui, T., calligrapher, 20-21

Venetian blind substitute, 46-47

Wainwright, Samuel, 80, 160, 170
War as reflected in camps and war¬
time activities, 146-147, 179, 183,
185, 187, 188, 191
War Production Board, 184
War Relocation Authority: xi-xiv, 3, 4,
180-182, 184-186, 190; Office of Re¬
ports, 42, 64, 146; Educational Pro¬
gram, 46, 66, 97, 179; Photographic
Division, 46; type of personnel, 181
Warner, Langdon, xiv, 130
Washington Post editorial, 182
Weaving, 46-47, 154-155
We Japanese, Frederic de Garis for
H. S. K. Yamaguchi, 102, 112, 124
Western Defense Command, 175, 177,
180

Wire for birds and artificial flowers,
how obtained, 28, 128
Wood, Japanese feeling for, 114, 130
Wood carving: 26-27, 68-69, 126-127;
“assisting nature/' 36-37; bird carv¬
ing, 4, 10-11, 28-29, 110-111, 130-
131; relief carvings, 12-13, 14-15,
138-139, 158-159

Woodworking: 40-41, 134, 138-139,
144-145; flower containers, 128-129;
color plate, opposite 172; inlaid wood,
126-127, 158-159; description of an¬
cient goban table inlaid with ivory,
etc., 134; ironwood pieces, 114-115;
bark as part of design, 12, 15, 24-25,
139, 158-159

Wood growths, nature-carved, 36-37,
72-73, 76-77, 86, 90-91, 100-101,
162-163. See also kobus

Yakura, Mrs. S., teacher, 160-161
Yamada, Jim, reporter, 146
Yanagi, Soetsu, vi
Yasaki, Judy, interviewer, 179
.Yokohari, Misuma, registering for com¬
bat duty, 183

Yuasa, K,, flower arranger, 34-35

[ 208 ]

This report being a testimonial of friendship, it seemed fitting to the
designer of the volume, ROBERT CHENEY, and to the author, that
a few friends who approved this message, and who in their several
fields have given distinction to the arts of the book in America,
should be brought in to help give order and beauty to this one. And
so Arthur and Edna Rushmore designed and set the title page in
Centaur type. The quotation from Milton was contributed by Paul
Standard who rendered it and the words of Isaiah in calligraphic
form.

All the type faces used in the book are by American designers.
The text is in Caledonia designed by W. A. Dwiggins; the title
page, as said, is in Centaur by Bruce Rogers ; the dedication is in
Fairfield by RUDOLPH RUZICKA ; the copyright is set in Cornell
designed by George TrenholM; the page of quotations, in
Deepdene by FREDERIC W. GoUDY; and everything is pulled
together by CARL PuRINGTON ROLLINS who has laid out the
colophon in Cheltenham designed by BERTRAM GROSVENOR

Goodhue.